


The Sound of a Cyclone

by WeBuiltThePyramids



Category: Scorpion (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Found Family, Gen, Inspired by The Sound of Music, Loose Adaption, Soul-Searching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-27
Updated: 2018-01-13
Packaged: 2019-01-06 04:33:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 29,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12203970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeBuiltThePyramids/pseuds/WeBuiltThePyramids
Summary: While struggling to find her identity as a singer, Paige Dineen takes a temporary job with a team of geniuses who struggle to fit in with society.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A few years ago, I came up with this idea for AU Day of Tumblr's Scorpion 30 Day Challenge. This is a rather loose, modern adaption of The Sound of Music. You're not going to read about the team singing on a mountainside or fleeing an impending war. But I think you guys will be able to see how this is Sound Of Music inspired as you read through it.

By the third or fourth "ladies, gentleman?" Carlos had managed to get the attention of at least a half dozen patrons, and he seemed pleased with that. "We have a wonderful treat for you all tonight, folks. Enjoy your drinks, enjoy each other, and enjoy the music. I'm proud to present, the lovely Paige Dineen!"

She smiled at Carlos, walking out to the microphone on the stage, the music slowly filling the room. A few of the guys sitting at the counter turned and looked at her. One of them gave her a crooked smile before he spit dip into the water bottle in his hand. Paige looked away, placing a hand delicately on the microphone stand and closing her eyes.

" _Oh no, did I get too close? Oh, did I almost see what's really on the inside? All your insecurities, all the dirty laundry, never made me blink one time…"_

She opened her eyes before the chorus. The bar wasn't full, not this early, but there were still quite a few people there for this time on a Friday.

" _Unconditional, unconditionally…"_

She noticed a couple who had gotten up slow dancing near their table, and she briefly wondered if they had used fake I.D.s to get in.

"Hey! Who ordered the sliders?"

A waitress, an older, heavyset woman whose voice could cut through any crowd, hustled past, balancing more trays than she had hands. At the far end of the room, a drunk guy pushed a smaller man against the wall, growling something that was probably a threat. A security guard appeared out of nowhere, heading toward them.

" _Come, just, as you are to me, don't need apologies…"_

She closed her eyes again. The lights were drifting softly across the stage, the handiwork of Lucy. It wasn't complicated by any means, not like the spectacular effects that Adele or Carrie Underwood had, but she was just a singer in hole in the wall bars in a city that kept you on the hook while you chased after a once upon a time that would never end. This was a step up from where she was three years ago, doing public domain covers in Central Park by day and translating Spanish transcripts to English by night for four cents a word. She would give it that.

" _So open up your heart and just let it begin…"_

The man who had been so threatening in the back of the room was sitting down now, another beer almost vertical. A few spots away from him, a couple girls in NYU crop tops were downing the tray of sliders.

Paige's voice slowly faded out on the last note to a smattering of applause. "Thank you," she said into the microphone, taking a step back and brushing some hair behind her ear. "This next song, you're probably also familiar with it. It was originally performed by someone you may know of named Lady GaGa…"

* * *

"Nice job tonight."

Paige smiled. "Thanks, Carlos."

"I have some left over wings if you want to take something home. I'm going to peace out soon. Lucy wants me to spend the night."

"You really ought to just move in together," Paige said. "You're always at each other's places anyway."

"We live in the same apartment building, it's not like it's any time."

"You'd save on rent."

"I'm not sure we're ready for that yet," Carlos said. "We both like having space to ourselves. Living together would eliminate that."

"I suppose. Not that I'd know."

Carlos shrugged, putting the last glass into the dish drainer. "You gonna head over to Hamilton Heights tonight?"

"I may. I need to talk to Drew."

"The crowd seemed to really like you tonight."

Paige lifted her shoulders, sighing. "You think so, huh?"

"Yep. We haven't had an act in here since Lucy was waitressing. You want to do it next Friday?"

"Sure. I need the money."

"Oh, come on," he said, giving her a fond smile. "We aren't that bad, are we?"

"No, Carlos," she said, hoping she sounded reassuring. "No. You know I appreciate you talking Nemos into letting me sing here. I just…"

"You want more. You want people screaming your name and buying tee shirts with your face on it and pre – ordering your next album."

Paige nodded, picking at a hang nail she hadn't realized she had. "Sounds good to me."

"You'll get there. You have the voice, you know."

"Thanks," Paige said with a smile. "But having the voice, as you say, that's not enough. Or else, if you and Raya are to be believed, I'd be touring the world." She didn't think she was that good. But damn, she and Raya had never been close, but the older woman had been her biggest fan when they waitressed together one block over.

"I'm telling you," Carlos said. "You're going to be amazingly successful." He walked over to the smaller fridge and pulled out a to go container. "Here. There's like ten wings."

Paige took it, smiling at him. "Thanks. I…I should get going if I'm going to get to Drew's before he turns in for the night."

"He doesn't mind you just…showing up…at his place?"

"I'm his favorite client," Paige said. He'd never told her that, but she had heard the others sing. "And he's told us he doesn't normally go to bed until after midnight. And if we knock and he doesn't answer, well, he's either, as he puts it,  _not home, sleeping, in the shower, having sex, or dead. Or a combination._ "

Carlos shook his head slowly. "Well, you…good luck with…with that."

"I'll see you on Monday." Paige gave him a little wave before heading out the door. It was only a five minute walk to the subway, and then twenty minutes, then another ten to Drew's apartment. She would be there before eleven.

* * *

"Paige."

Drew Baker didn't look as if she had woken him up – or disrupted a shower or a romp with a girl. He did look tired, but when did any of them ever look fully awake? Paige would have felt bad about showing up so late, except that she didn't. If she was successful, Drew was successful. That's what he always told her. And the idea of singing at the Lizbeth Bar every Friday for the foreseeable future wasn't being successful.

"Can I come in?"

"Absolutely. How was your show?"

"That's…that's kinda what I wanted to talk to you about."

"Okay. I actually wanted to talk to you too, so I'm glad you stopped by." Drew pointed toward the room on the left. It was the second bedroom, but in the year he had lived in Hamilton Heights, it had been his office. "Right in there."

Paige sat down, and Drew walked around the desk, settling in to his chair on the other side. "Something go wrong?"

"That depends on what you define as wrong. Microphone worked, Lucy's lighting panned out. I got enough tips to buy some new used shoes at the secondhand store. But Drew…" She shrugged. "I've been spending the past year just getting one – night gigs in bars and day time work in coffee shops. You know that's not what I want."

"It takes time to work your way up to being a big name," Drew said. "And unless you win the lottery and can afford advertisements and basically buy your way in, you need to develop a following first."

"I know." Paige knew that was her main issue. She had a couple dozen people following her Facebook page, but she was never going to be selling out shows off of that. "I just don't understand. I'm singing stuff Tayla wrote for me. I'm doing covers of hits. I've got three full octaves."

"Your problem," Drew said, picking up a pen and gesturing toward her with it, "is you don't connect with your audiences."

"I smile at them. I wave. I ask them if they're ready before I sing something with a good beat."

"You have to do more than that, though," Drew said. "You have to connect with them through the music. They have to believe that you feel what you're singing."

Paige sighed, folding her arms. "How do you suggest I do that?"

"I'll tell you." Drew laced his fingers and leaned forward on the desk. "You need to live your life."

She cocked her head. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, you sing all these songs about love and going through hell but coming out stronger, and enduring feelings, and…I know I don't know everything about your life, but I do know that you don't understand any of that. You can't, really, until you live it. And you haven't. And to be frank, you suck at faking it."

Paige considered what he was saying. She supposed it was true – she'd never had her heart broken. She'd never felt anything for someone that she could honestly describe as passion. But… "you don't think that having our son didn't give me life experience?"

"Sure," Drew said. "But there are only so many songs about getting pregnant off a one – night stand and being a single mother."

"But couldn't I translate that? I love Ralph. And it's not like I have a lot of money. It's not like I haven't struggled in my life." She hoped that Drew wouldn't take offense to her comment about loving the boy. She knew Drew didn't. But she had never much cared about that. They hadn't ever been together; Ralph was the product of too much drinking and she never expected him to be in the boy's life. He gave her a few hundred bucks a month to help with him, and when his baseball career flamed out and he became a manager he agreed to represent her, and she was satisfied with that.

"You could. But he's eight years old and you haven't figured out how to do that yet."

"Okay, well," Paige said, slapping knees with both hands. "I guess all I have to do is fall in love, get my heart broken, fall in love again, follow the person to the edge of the earth, and then I'll put more feeling into my singing and get a following and boom, I'm winning Grammys. Simple plan, Baker. I'll get right on that. Did you have a guy in mind, or should I just go walking the streets asking passerby if they'd like to date me?"

Drew rolled his eyes. "That's not what I mean. I just mean, you've lived in this city your whole life. You've never had a serious relationship. You're pretty much just a twenty – seven – year – old teenager who lives at home and has the same basic life day in and day out."

Paige wanted to be offended. But he did have a point. "So…what exactly do you suggest? I can't just pack up Ralph and move across the country." Her eyebrows shot up at the look on his face. "You're actually suggesting I pack up Ralph and move across the country?"

"You made some comments last month along the lines of the frustrations we're talking about now. And so I started looking at some potential employment opportunities in Chicago, Houston, Los Angeles."

"You…you what?"

"Look, you want me to help you be successful, right?"

"Yeah. But you can't ship me off…"

"I'm not shipping you anywhere. I'm just saying, I think it would be a good idea for you to get out of this city. Go somewhere else, get some experience on your own, away from everyone you've known since NBC Universal became E! and figure out who exactly you are on your own. Then, come back here and sing about it."

"How am I supposed to afford to do that? You know as well as I do that I'm not exactly swimming in savings."

Drew slid a piece of paper across the table. "There's a place in Los Angeles that would provide you with housing if you were employed by them."

Paige looked down at the paper. "Scorpion Computer Services?"

"It's run by a guy named O'Brien. I guess the United States thought he was a terrorist in Ireland when he was a kid, but it turns out he's just, really really smart or something. And he likes NASA. I don't know. I guess him and his team, they're all geniuses, so they suck at communicating with people, and they want someone who is a people person to help them maneuver through society without sinking their company."

"And they're looking for people in New York?"

"No," Drew said. "They're not an ad in the paper type of people. I just found out about them through a friend and when I contacted O'Brien, he said he would be "delighted" to have you. And he is willing to put you and Ralph up in a small apartment on a three month temporary assignment."

Paige felt a twinge of suspicion. "These seems too good to be true. What aren't you telling me?"

"Nothing. That's all there is to it. You're my best client, Paige, and I think this could be the key to your success."

 _Ha. I am his best client._  "I need to think about it."

Drew nodded. "Sure. But this is an excellent time to do it, with summer time coming. That way the kid won't have to adjust to another new school."

He certainly had a point there. Ralph hated school, and she was lucky that he'd managed to stay at this one for a full semester. Paige bit her lip. "I still need to think about it. How long do I have?"

"Take as much time as you need."

"I'm sure this O'Brien wouldn't like you keeping him on the hook."

"I don't care. He was rude on the phone."

"And you want to send me off to work with him and live off of his generosity?"

"Oh, he was rude to me, sure," Drew said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "But you know I'm not a people person. You are. I'm sure you can handle him and his team."

"How many are there?" Paige asked, wondering exactly what she was potentially getting herself into.

"Four geniuses and one Homeland Agent who acts as their government handler."

"Homeland?" Paige was alarmed. This was not at all how she'd expected her night to go when she headed for Hamilton Heights.

"They do jobs for the government, or something," Drew said again. "All you'd be doing is being their liaison, their mediator."

"But I don't know anything about talking to geniuses," she said. "What makes this O'Brien think I'd be good at that job?"

"I don't know. He's the genius. But he's extremely interested in having you on board, and it would save you the time and stress of interviewing for other positions. This one is flat out being offered to you."

"And you really think I should take it."

"I do. But as I said, it is your decision, of course. I can't just ship you off."

Paige thought a moment, then sighed. "Can I get back to you on Monday? This isn't the type of decision that I can make on the spot."

"Sure. Text me?"

"Yeah." Paige rose, reaching across to shake his hand. "I'll let you know."


	2. Chapter 2

Paige had left her son with a sitter countless times, but aside from the first time she'd gone somewhere without him, nine weeks after he was born, she'd never been so apprehensive about it. He had mental and emotional challenges, and moving him to a new city was bound to be stressful enough on him. Leaving him in the hotel room with a sitter he wasn't familiar with would make things worse.

"He will not actually talk to you," Paige told the girl, a college student named Elissa, for what was the tenth time if it was the first. "But he should be low maintenance. We had lunch already, and he brought back a bunch of sugar packets and stuff, which he plays with. So he will probably do that until I get home." She hoped. She hoped he wouldn't throw a fit.

"We'll be fine," Elissa said easily. The hotel's night auditor had recommended her. She said the girl was studying child development and had babysat her own kids. "I promise. And I'll call you if there's any issues."

"Good. Thank you."

"Okay, sweetie," Paige said, walking over to the far bed and bending down to look at her son. "Will you be okay while I go check out this new job?"

Ralph looked over at Elissa, then back to Paige. He bit his lip.

"I know, sweetie," Paige said, lifting a hand to run through his hair. "Things are really different today. But Elissa is just going to watch you for a few hours like Jamie and Rachel and Cory used to. Okay?"

Ralph looked back down and lifted a Splenda packet, moving it a few rows over and one up. Paige sighed internally. "Okay, Ralph, I love you and I'll see you later."

She hesitated another moment before leaving. She wished she could take Ralph with her. But that had only hurt her at past jobs. She blew a kiss to her son and exited the room.

* * *

Paige knocked hesitantly on the run – down metal door. When she had been told that Team Scorpion operated out of a garage, she thought it would be something more like a car repair shop. This building was at least two stories, had no signage outside, and if Drew hadn't been the reason she and Ralph were now in Los Angeles she would suspect that she'd been set up.

And actually, of all the people in her life, Drew wasn't exactly the most trustworthy.

 _Have some confidence in yourself,_ she chided silently. She'd always kind of wanted this, right? Adventure? New people and new places? Sure, she'd always expected her first taste of this to come with some sort of fame, but if this was how it initially happened…why not?

_Because this building looks so damn shady._

She jumped when the door opened and she found herself face to face with a dark haired man. "People don't usually knock."

 _People don't usually knock?_ Shaking off her surprise, Paige smiled and held out her hand. "Hello. I'm Paige Dineen. How are you this afternoon?"

He looked down at her hand, then lifted his eyes back to hers, giving a thoughtful nod. "Ah. You prefer a different greeting." He cleared his throat. "Hello. I'm Walter O'Brien. Leader of Team Scorpion." He looked around. "Where is your son?"

"He's with a sitter." Paige cocked her head. "Why?"

"Oh, I just would really, very much like to meet him. Come on in."

Paige narrowed her eyes as she followed him into the garage, which was, once again, nothing like she had expected. But she was too focused on what he was saying to take in too many details of the building. "What's your interest in my son?"

"I'm _very_  interested in your son," he said.

Paige felt anger and disgust boiling up in her, and she took a step back, her eyes flashing. "Is that right? That's why you wanted me to work for you? To get to my son? You sick son of…" she trailed off at the look on his face. She could read people. She was very good at reading people. And this man had a completely dumbfounded look on his face. In fact, the expression was just like Ralph's when she was completely misinterpreting him, which happened far more often than she'd like. "You're not a creep."

He blinked. "N – no. I fear we have had a misunderstanding. The man I spoke with did not explain why I hired you?"

"He said…he said you thought I'd be a good fit for this company…"

"Exactly."

"I'm confused."

"I hired you because a month ago, your son logged onto a web site that is generally only known to the best hackers in the world. We post security systems that we have designed and the others try to hack them."

"…why?" Paige couldn't decide if she was more baffled by the notion of this web site or angry at her son for going on the internet without her permission.

"It's…it's an ego thing, to put it…simply. At least, that's what Toby says. And Ralph managed to get through one of my top projects. He's the only one that was able to get through."

"What?" Paige cocked her head suspiciously. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, he was smarter than all of us. Even me. And I've been the fourth smartest person ever in recorded history for most of my life. And I figure, that must come with social challenges. So if you and him have a bond, then you…you must know how to talk to him. How to get through to him. And if you can do that with him, then maybe you can do that with us."

Paige stared in confusion. "I'm…I'm sorry. What?"

He blinked. "Oh. You didn't know."

"I didn't know what?"

He shifted his weight. "Well, I suppose I must apologize for being the bearer of bad news. But your son is a genius."

Paige stared at him, unsure how to respond. He – she wasn't sure what she should call him. Walter? Mr. O'Brien? O'Brien? Sir? – he had never even met her son. But based on his interactions with Ralph on some web site that was apparently secret, Lord did she need to have a conversation with that boy when she got back, he was convinced that her son was like him. Like…the others. Paige had almost forgotten that there were others.

"So," he continued, "I would, providing you are comfortable with it, like to meet your son in person. I suspect he has some difficulties connecting with people. They call him different. They make him think he doesn't belong…"

Paige suddenly felt tears welling up in her eyes. She blinked a few times to push them down. She'd come in here so damn furious with this man and now… "Yeah," she admitted quietly. "Yeah, he gets…he gets that a lot."

He nodded. "We've all been through that on some level. We understand it. And that's why I think you would work well with us. You clearly have patience and compassion for us. The majority of the world doesn't. So you can help us. Help us speak to the general public. If you translate the world for us, we can help you in return. Help you understand your son."

Paige was almost annoyed at herself for how quickly she had softened to this idea.

"I suppose you will want to meet the team."

"I would…what should I call you?" She asked.

He looked confused. "My name is Walter O'Brien."

"S…so…"

"Oh. You can call me Walter. We're all on a first name basis." He turned toward the stairs and rolled his lips under his teeth, whistling loudly.

Paige blinked as an entourage of adults made their way down the stairs. First in line was a short woman, then came a tall man wearing a hat. Behind him was another tall man in glasses, and then came an older man. None of them looked amused.

"Team," Walter said, "this is Paige Dineen. She's going to be an incredible asset to our team."

"He wanted us to stay upstairs until he called for us so we wouldn't make a bad impression," said the man with the hat. "But from what I overheard, he managed to convince you that he's a pedophile in the first ten seconds, so I feel like us being downstairs from the time you got here wouldn't have been so bad."

"Be quiet," Walter snapped. He turned to Paige. "That's Toby Curtis."

"Dr. Toby Curtis," Toby clarified.

"He is mostly the reason why I wanted them to stay upstairs."

Paige cleared her throat for no reason but wanting an additional moment before she would be expected to speak again. "Hello, Dr. Curtis."

"Hi. Pleasure's all mine. We don't need a translator. I am a master of human behavior." Toby was glaring at Walter.

"Yes, and yesterday Cabe had to save your ass from being beaten by a handful of the guys you owe money to, and last week he had to step in when you smart mouthed a secretary and lost us a job."

"Do you not realize how many jobs you've caused us to lose?" Said the woman.

"Which is why we need someone like Paige here," Walter said. He turned to her. "She's Happy. She's the most brilliant mechanic in the world."

"Uh, Walt," the youngest of them said, "I don't mean to cause more of a divide here, but, uh…what  _do_  we need a new person for? Sure, we're piggy backing off of the neighbor's electric, but all we need to do is really buckle down on our work, and…"

Walter crossed his arms. "Sylvester. When was the last time you ate?"

Sylvester looked confused by the question. "You mean like food?"

Paige didn't think her eyebrows could go up any farther.


	3. Chapter 3

Walter showed her around the bottom level of the garage. It wasn't what Paige expected – although if she was honest with herself, she really had no idea what she  _had_  been expecting. There were desks, and piles of equipment she didn't recognize, and a small airstream camper, and what looked like a rocket, though Paige assumed she  _had_  to be wrong about that.

On the conclusion of the tour, Walter handed her a few stacks of paper. "Crash course for you on the job and the business. Basically, what we're doing right now is setting up Wi-Fi in restaurants, doing some small repairs and improvements on people's vehicles, things like that. Cabe has gotten us a few jobs with Homeland…"

"Homeland, as Department of Homeland Security?"

"No," Walter said. "Homeland the spy thriller starring Claire Danes." He paused, furrowing his brow. "I don't know anything about that media, but that's what Cabe said to me when I asked the same question you did on the first day he worked with us. It's a use of sarcasm."

Paige blinked.

"Anyway," Walter said, waving a hand dismissively, "we have some trouble with those jobs. It requires efficient communication between us and the rest of the world, and that's where we struggle. We will be more efficient with a liaison."

"Okay," Paige said. "I'll read all of this tonight."

"Excellent. And, forgive me for asking again, but, uh, your son…"

"I will bring him by," Paige promised. "If he…um…if he how you say he is…I'm sure he will be…pleased to meet you all." She wasn't at all sure about that final sentence. Ralph had never been happy about meeting anyone. He preferred not to be around other people. She didn't dare let herself believe that this would be any different. But she was a mother. Where there was a possibility, there was hope. And she could feel that hope swelling in her.

"Well," Walter said, "I will let you head out for the day, unless you'd like to walk around the main floor a bit first. Get familiar. I know that is what is usually required for a fully efficient mind in the work environment. Can you be here tomorrow around nine?"

"I…" she left off  _have to get a sitter for Ralph._  Not if he was coming to work with her. She nodded. "I can do that. Yes."

"Excellent." Without so much as a goodbye, Walter turned and headed for the stairs. Paige wondered if that was his private office or if he lived up there.

She had set her phone down when Walter was showing her the kitchen, when she'd opened the fridge to see if they were feeding themselves properly. She saw some soda, some fruit that had seen better days, and a package of hot dogs. The fridge needed work.

Paige entered the kitchen area and found her phone where she'd left it. No missed calls. Her motherly worry evaporated just slightly.

"Hey. Singer."

Paige turned to see Happy walk into view. "Hi."

"Do you want some bread?" Happy asked, holding out a basket.

"Oh." Paige hadn't been thinking about it, but now that she did, her stomach was grumbling at her. "Sure. Thank you." She selected a piece, and only noticed the smirk Toby was trying to hide as she bit down and…

" _Agh_!" She gagged, reaching for the tissues on the wall beside her and spitting, coughing as she rushed to the sink and stuck her head sideways under the faucet.

"She fell for it!" Paige heard Toby howl and it sounded like he had jumped up on the table, and although she hadn't quite made out the taste yet, the bubbles swirling around the drain gave her the answer. She spit again, then whirled around, staring at them incredulously as the three fell silent.

Happy had a small grin on her face, something that Paige had already realized was rare. "It…it was soap," she said quietly, Toby bursting into giggles again at her confession.

"Microwaved soap can look a lot like bread," Sylvester said. "It's a fairly popular science fair project in some places."

"Microwaved soap?" Cabe appeared, staring at the younger trio with raised eyebrows. Toby continued to howl. The older man turned to Paige. "You're pretty lucky, you know. With Janice Keller, it was a hot sauce packet stuck into the bottom of her straw before it was placed back inside her drink.

Paige didn't know who Janice Keller was, but she didn't care to ask, especially since the awful taste of the soap was still in her mouth. She leaned back over the sink, tipping her head and taking another mouthful of water.

"Get out," Cabe said, waving his hand at the other three. "All of you. That's enough shenanigans for today."

"Whatever, Grandpa," Toby said, adjusting his hat and grinning at Happy as he hopped off the table and headed for the door, Happy and Sylvester in toe. Sylvester threw a look back at Paige as they exited, one that seemed almost sympathetic.

"They can be a tough crowd," Cabe said in a low voice, approaching her as she wiped her mouth with a napkin. "They're just very low E.Q. and they are used to being beaten on the head by people they call normal. Metaphorically, of course."

Paige tipped her head. "E…E.Q.?"

"Emotional Quotient. Like how I.Q. is Intelligence Quotient. It has something to do with the hemispheres in your brain. Walt can explain it better than I can."

"What is the deal with Walter?" Paige asked curiously. "He…seems a little…I don't want to say odd, but…"

"He is odd," Cabe said. "But he's also a man in pretty heavy pain."

"Oh?"

"He had a sister. Older. So never knew life without her. But she wasn't well. She had M.S."

"Oh," Paige said softly. She had had a teacher with a mild case in middle school.

"He loved her. They were close. He had always struggled with E.Q. Always felt out of place. But when his sister died, it was like he rebooted himself back to some default, factory setup. He felt emotions for her. And if he hadn't felt them, her death wouldn't have hurt. So in the past year especially, he has rejected emotions, compassion, empathy, you name it. The other kids, they never really had a lot of E.Q. development either, but he's pulled them right back into this vortex with him. They try to form relationships. But they always hold back. Toby and Happy, they're real sweet on each other. But neither has acted on it because Walter has forbidden close relationships. Even platonic ones. He says we can all be more efficient with strict professionalism. And even when any of them – even Walter – wants to feel something meaningful, they don't. Because they're scared of losing each other. And they're all each other has."

"And I'm normal," Paige said. "So to them, I'm a threat?"

"Yes. I know you're a bit apprehensive about bringing your son here. But geniuses do need each other. They may be good for him. And he may be good for them, too. Might teach them that forming outside relationships isn't so bad. Might soften up O'Brien."

Paige let out a long, contemplative breath. "This is a lot to walk in to."

"It is," Cabe said. "He had interviews for some other potential liaisons a few months back. He didn't like any of them. But they all also said that they would never want to work for him anyway. He's a bit of an acquired taste."

"I do hate that he hurts so badly."

"Yeah. Me too." Cabe gently touched her arm. "I do have to get going. I have to be in a meeting in an hour. But I'd like you to hang in there, kid. Maybe you can make this a happy place again."


	4. Chapter 4

Although she was certain now that Walter O'Brien was not someone to be worried about when it came to her son, Paige kept a close eye on the first meeting between him and Ralph.

It appeared to be going well. Walter had walked up to the two of them after they entered the garage and hunkered down to be eye level with Ralph. After introducing himself, he asked if Ralph would be interested in seeing…Paige had been lost immediately. But there was no denying the look in her son's eyes when he turned to her and raised his eyebrows, his way of asking if he could. She almost never saw him light up like that.

So of course she said yes.

They had spent the past fifteen minutes fiddling with the rocket – esque thing near the side of the room. Paige wondered if it really was a rocket. Even after only one day in this garage, she realized she wouldn't be surprised if it was. She hadn't quite realized what she was getting into when she agreed to let Drew Baker send her to the other side of the country.

Ralph pointed to something, and Walter smiled, nodding and reaching over to ruffle the boy's hair. Paige felt her heart skip a beat when Ralph smiled back.

"So…uh…"

There was a light tap on her shoulder, and Paige realized that Sylvester was talking to her. She turned around to face him.

"Hi."

"Hi," Paige said carefully. She tipped her head to the side. "Everything…okay?"

"Uh, well, no." He was wringing his hands. Paige noticed a glint from one of them. "I wanted to apologize for my…uh…involvement…in the soap stunt. It was immature. And uncalled for. And I may not be the picture of a perfect citizen, but I try not to be a jerk. Too many people have been jerks to me and I know how it feels."

"Well, thank you," Paige said, giving him a smile. "I appreciate it. And I'm sorry people have been awful." She looked back toward her son. "What are they working on?"

"I'm not sure," Sylvester said. "They might be looking at the most efficient power source for those thrusters. Or maybe, that flashlight Walter is holding to see underneath, Ralph is wondering how to power a light by the heat of the hand that's holding it. There's so much involving that rocket. And your son wants to know all of it. It's impossible to know exactly what Walter is telling him. But you can see that he's intrigued."

"I…" Paige shook her head. "I didn't even know he was interested in this sort of thing."

"Few parents meaningfully engage with mentally enabled children," Sylvester said. Paige turned and looked at him, and he must have sensed her distress, because he put a hand on her shoulder. "It's not your fault. It's just…" he shrugged, "how we are."

Paige bit her lip. "Well, how did your parents handle it."

"Oh…" Sylvester's face changed. "Uh…not well. I haven't spoken to them in almost ten years."

Paige stared for a moment, then turned back to her son and Walter. A fear, a tension was seeping through her body. Ten years? Had Sylvester's parents pushed him away? Or had they just failed at connecting with him to the point where he simply didn't care to contact them?

She was Ralph's safe space, at least for now. But clearly she had never been able to understand him. What if, for all her best intentions, the day came when her son didn't want to talk to her?

As if to reassure her, Ralph came walking quickly around the table and back over to her. "Hey, baby," she said affectionately, running her hand through his hair, the motion reminding her that Walter had recently done the same thing. "How's it going?"

"I like it here, Mom," he said softly.

"He likes the rocket," Walter said, walking over to them. He had a smile on his face.

Ralph turned to him. "Thank you for showing me, Walter," he said.

Paige blinked in surprise, looking down at her son and then back up at Walter. He furrowed his brow in confusion.

"Ralph," Paige said, "you have grease on your fingers. Please go down that way and wash your hands in the kitchen sink, please."

He nodded, glancing around to get his bearings before heading in the direction she had pointed.

Paige looked back at Walter. "He doesn't talk to anyone but me."

Walter shrugged. "He recognizes one of his own."

"This is all so…new," she said. "I never would have imagined…I mean…"

"You didn't expect to have a mentally gifted child," Walter said. "You probably thought he struggled at school. I'm sure his grades support that hypothesis. His social mutism made many thing he had a limited mental capacity, and he was likely picked on. Sometimes he probably feels like no one else in the world likes him. But…"

Paige had put a hand over her face, dropping her chin, and was drawing in a deep, self soothing breath when Walter trailed off. She looked up, blinking the tears back. "I'm sorry," she said. "He's just had it so hard."

"Well, that won't be over now," Walter said, matter of factly, "but it will be good for him to be around people like us. It will make him feel less alone."

Paige couldn't help but feel confused. Cabe had said that Walter didn't believe in meaningful connections between people, and yet he seemed committed to having her son around. She wanted to ask why. But Walter didn't know that Cabe had told her…things. "Well," she said, slowly and carefully, "I'm glad that he has the chance to know people like him. It must be awfully lonely to go through life without anything meaningful."

"Meaningful connections are largely overrated," Walter said. "But you can maximize productivity and increase your sense of purpose by knowing like minded people who can help you become better versions of yourself. And that's a good day for anybody."

Paige lifted her eyebrows, but nodded. "Sure…sure." She cleared her throat. "So…what do we do today? What's the work?"

"Oh. Today Happy is going to collect some money for an installation she did the other week. There's…there's not much else that we…"

"Toby is going to collect the money," Happy said from her desk. Paige jumped. She had forgotten that the others were nearby. "While I was doing the job, the shop owner called me sugar. So I…"

"Hit him in the mouth," Walter mumbled under his breath, finishing the sentence in unison with the mechanic. "Lovely. Well, here's hoping he comes home with the money and doesn't run down to Los Alamitos and gamble it all away."

Paige raised her eyebrows. "Toby has a gambling problem?"

"Oh, kid," Cabe said, walking into view with a partially unwrapped sub sandwich, "you're just scratching the tip of this Scorpion iceberg."


	5. Chapter 5

“So here’s my idea,” Paige said, breaking the third or fourth awkward silence in the span of as many minutes.  “We need to break down why Scorpion isn’t getting regular, lucrative work.  So why don’t we all go around and, and by all I mean the three of us, since who knows where Walter and Cabe and Sylvester went off to, why don’t we talk about what we feel the challenges are, and then we can work on how to improve those areas to make us more marketable.”  That made sense.  It was a version of what Drew had done when he’d decided to send her out here.  It could be applied to this situation.  Easily.

She gave herself a mental pat on the back for using _us_ rather than _you all_ when referring to the Scorpion staff.  You belong if you act like you belong...right?

“So…” she said, trying not to count the number of pauses as the doctor and mechanic just stared back at her.  “Anyone?  Maybe any personal things that might be holding us back?”

“Here we go,” Happy muttered.  Toby glanced at her.

“Here we go?” Paige asked, raising her eyebrows.  “Is something wrong?”

“Nope.”

Paige bit the inside of her cheek.  “Then…what’s the problem here?  There’s clearly something.”

“I’m sorry.  We don’t exactly have a great relationship with people like you.  Sorry if we don’t feel up to revealing our tragic backstories to some waitress we’ve known for three days.”

Paige opened her mouth, prepared to say _singer_ , but she stopped herself.  Nothing about that would serve to do anything but prove the mechanic’s point.  “I have no ill intentions, Happy,” she said.  “Honestly, I don’t even really know what I’m doing.”

“You were hired to translate the world for us, were you not?” Toby asked, looking curious.

“I…I guess.  I was told it was a liaison position.”

“I assume you have no experience in helping geniuses navigate normal life,” Happy said.  “You didn’t know the kid was one of us.”  Her eyes flicked from Paige to Toby.  “I’m done with this.  I’ll be on the roof.”

“Hap…” Paige trailed off when the smaller woman spun purposefully on her heel and marched off.  She watched her go, then turned back toward Toby.  “Uh…”

“Look.  We don’t trust easy.  I’ve got guys after me, for one.  Who knows if you’re working for them?”

“I’m sure you geniuses have already gotten a fairly extensive background check run on me,” Paige said, feeling a twinge of anger.  “And so you know that I have never been to Los Angeles before and that I have had no dealings with any people with any sort of power that you’re referring to.  So unless you’ve ever dined and dashed and left a guy named Carlos mad at you, you know I’m not working for anyone but this joint.  And if you don’t think I’m qualified, talk to your boss, because he is the one that brought me here.  Not me.  I didn’t even want to come, but my manager is convinced this is the only way to make me understand life.”  She lifted her hands, putting air quotes around the final two words.  “So yeah.  Don’t blame me if you don’t like this situation.  I didn’t hire me.  Walter did.  And he’s the authority.”

Toby scoffed. “Yeah.  Walter’s the boss.  He’s the boss all right.  Just because he got here first, of course, bought the garage, started drawing other geniuses to him like magnets.  End of the day, he has nothing that I don’t have.  Other than a foreskin.  Which has nothing to do with how well you’re capable of forming mature relationships, but he’s the expert.  Like he’s the expert on everything.”

Happy had just informed Paige that none of them would be just forking over personal information to her, and yet she felt she’d just gotten a lot on Toby.  _I was under the impression you guys were close…a family.  Is that not true?_   She badly wanted to ask Toby that question.  But she was starting to figure out that showing your hand against people who were already suspicious of anyone who wasn’t them was not the way to get information.

Drew had said that her problem with audiences was she couldn’t appeal to them emotionally.  Well, she hadn’t learned much about herself in the past seventy two hours, but maybe there was something off that angle.  She dropped her voice into a gentler tone. “You like Happy, then?” She asked.  “I couldn’t help but notice how you were looking at her.”

“I _love_ Happy,” Toby said, startling her with how readily the words had slipped off his tongue.  “But we aren’t supposed to get hurt.  Scorpion goes in the crapper if we get hurt.”

Paige detected some resentment in his voice.  “You believe that?”

“Happy does.  She saw how any sort of human connection messed up Walt and she uses that as part of her own defenses.  It’s an excuse to not open her heart.”

Paige immediately felt slightly defensive of the other woman.  “You know, sometimes women just aren’t interested.”

Toby looked impressed.  “I’m not being like that.  Happy and I are best friends.  We’ve touched on the possibility of _us_ before.  She’s scared, for reasons that no offense are none of your business at this stage in our professional relationship.  Things might be different if we weren’t who we are, or if Walter wasn’t so damn emotionally constipated.  Scorpion is a tangled web.  But it’s our web.”

“Who is Janice Keller?”

Toby blinked.  “What?”

“The other day.  When I ate the soap.”

“Oh.  She’s…Walter’s girlfriend, I guess.”

Paige had not at all expected to hear those words together.  _He doesn’t believe in meaningful relationships, but he has a girlfriend?_   She opened her mouth, and those exact words came out.

Toby shrugged.  “Yeah…it does make sense in a weird Walter way.”

“I’m interested in hearing about this.”  Paige wasn’t sure if her interest was about the content or just happy that Toby was talking.

“Yeah, so, Walt feels like the best way to come off as normal to society is to be seeing someone who is well adjusted and well connected.  Janice is in the medical field; she doesn’t have a lot of time, so they see each other maybe once a week.”

“So he’s…using her.”

“She’s well aware that it’s not a love thing.  Or a passion thing.  I highly doubt they’ve even bumped uglies.  It’s a weird dynamic.  I think she has real feelings for him, though.  She knows they aren’t reciprocated and Walter just wants to be able to say he’s in a relationship for various social reasons, but I guess she would rather be with him in this capacity than not at all.”

“That’s messed up.”

“I agree.  I agree completely.  But she’s fully aware of where his head is at, so it’s a…consensual kind of messed up.

Paige had another question.  “So what does she…why…”

“What’s she see in our resident grump?”

Paige nodded.  She could already tell that Walter was wonderful with her son.  But what would make a woman fall for him, especially knowing that he was essentially dating her for social points?

“She can see the deep down.  He’s a good guy.  He’s big on loyalty.  If you’re in deep caca, he will help.  And at the end of the day, he wants to make the world a better place because he has an incredible sense of duty to humanity.  He’s not supposed to feel, but he does.  And he will deny it until the cows come a’wandering home, but if he ever drops that act, she’ll be damn lucky to have him.  They’ll probably be married by that point anyway; he considers it just a matter of a piece of paper so will probably do it eventually.”

Paige shook her head slowly.

“Not what you were expecting when you got on that flight, huh?”

“You can say that again.”

“No use in saying anything again,” came Walter’s voice, and Paige and Toby turned in unison as he descended the stairs.  “Repeating yourself is terribly inefficient.  Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a job.”

“A job, huh?” Toby asked.

“Just setting up some wireless internet.  I won’t be long.  An hour, maybe two.  Then I’ll send Happy over tomorrow for payment.  These people sound like they’re going to be tough, and people aren’t as afraid of me.”

An hour.  Maybe two.  As Walter rattled off a few more details about the job and then exited the garage, a plan began to form in Paige’s head.  She turned to Toby.  “Go get Happy.  We’re going to have a lunch meeting at the diner down the street.”

Toby cocked his head.  “As opposed to right here?”

“Yes.  Because you guys are going to go together, and then I’m going to get a call from the sitter that Ralph needs something.”

Toby may not know her well yet, but she could see him connecting the dots.  “You’re setting us up on a date of convenience.”

“Yep.”

“Walter will…”

“Walter will not have any clue that’s what’s going on.  You’ll be back here before he returns and even if not, you’re both employed by Scorpion.  And it was a work meeting.  Not a date.”

A corner of Toby’s mouth moved ever so slightly.  “I think I may like the way you work.”


	6. Chapter 6

_From the day we arrive on this planet, and blinking, we step into the sun, there's more to see than can ever be seen. More to do than can ever be done…_

Ralph's eyelids were blinking slowly, staying closed slightly longer each time. He had been fighting sleep for nearly an hour now, tired from the flight, from adjusting to a new time zone and a new sitter, and from spending all day stimulating his mind in ways that Paige would have never imagined he needed. But while the initial adrenaline of meeting Team Scorpion had faded, he was still a bit too keyed up to sleep.

_But the sun rolling high in the sapphire sky keeps great and small on the endless round._

Paige rubbed his back gently as she continued to sing, her voice low and soft. She hadn't sung in nearly a week now, which was almost unheard of for her. She missed the Lizbeth Bar, the low lights and the teenagers with fake IDs and staying after with Carlos while he continued to make excuses about why he and Lucy weren't committing. She missed the singing the most. Even with a couple dozen Facebook likes and small crowds that were there more for the food than for her, singing was fun. It was fulfilling, no matter what the capacity was that she was getting to do it.

So she was almost glad when her son had difficulty falling asleep. Getting to soothe him with her voice was one of the  _most_  fulfilling aspects of her life, combining her love of singing with how much she loved her son. He often had trouble sleeping during thunderstorms, but this was Southern California. There was legitimately a better chance of their rental car malfunctioning due to smog.

_It's the circle of life, and it moves us all. Through despair and hope. Through faith and love. Until we find our place on the path unwinding. In the circle, the circle of life._

Ralph made a tiny sound and shifted his weight slightly, settling comfortably into the mattress, his eyes closing again. Paige kept rubbing his back.

_Ingonyama nengw' enamabala._

_Ingonyama nengw' enamabala._

_Ingonyama nengw' enamabala._

"That's a good boy," she whispered, changing back to a speaking voice after another minute or so. Now that he was asleep, Paige could marvel at him without any raised eyebrows in response.

A genius.

She completely believed it now, after watching him and Walter interact. They understood each other. She had never seen Ralph look so happy. And, although it was only a guess, of course, it didn't seem like Walter got that way often, either.

Jennifer, another of Drew's clients, often said, almost to an obnoxious degree, that everything happened for a reason. Paige never really believed that. But maybe there was a reason for her coming all the way out here to do a job she wasn't qualified for with a bunch of people who didn't even seem to want her there. Maybe it was to help her be a better mother to her son.

Or maybe it was something even greater than that.

* * *

 "So…how was your little… _staff meeting_  at Kovelsky's?"

Happy lifted her eyes to Paige's, a glare clearly coming through. "Why are you meddling?"

"Meddling?" Paige feigned innocence. "I was just curious. As the team's new liaison…"

"You deliberately set me and Toby up on a date. You know Walt doesn't approve. Did you come here to help, or just because you have a thing for stirring up trouble?"

Paige hesitated before responding, a pause that gave Toby time to jump in. "I think the meeting went well," he said loudly. "Very informative, very efficient…"

"Walter is standing right behind me, isn't he?" Paige asked in a low voice.

"Not exactly, but he's coming down the stairs," Happy said through her teeth.

"So are you really angry with me, then?"

"Yes. But Toby and I get in trouble too if Walter finds out so I'm keeping my trap shut and you'd better, too."

"See?" Toby said, noticing Paige's small smile and patting Happy on the back. The mechanic raised her eyebrows at him. "Paige just wants honesty. And honestly, Paige, we had a very nice dinner. It was good to spend some time together."

"Oh, excellent," Paige said, grinning triumphantly. "I really do think that working out the kinks between co – workers is a great way to make a team work as a unit. That and honesty. Honesty, open communication, it's all very important."

"You like honesty?" Happy asked. "Here's some honesty. I think that dress you're wearing is the ugliest thing I've ever seen."

"Happy!" Sylvester said, turning from the bookshelf, a figurine in hand, to gape at her.

"What?" Happy asked. "Don't you think it's ugly?"

"Of course. But you don't  _say_  that."

"He says, saying it himself," Toby mumbled under his breath.

"Happy," Walter asked loudly from near his desk, "did you collect the money from the job I completed the other day?"

The mechanic picked up a wrench and traced the edge of it with her finger. "Sylvester did it."

Walter frowned. "I asked you to do it." He circled around his desk and settled in the chair.

"Why does it matter who did it? We got our money."

"I had said – quite clearly – that those people were going to be tough to handle."

"Yeah and you were worried we didn't get our money. We did." Happy shrugged. "So what's the big deal?"

Walter frowned. "Were they disrespectful to you?"

"Told me I could double the money if I sucked a few of them off. So I said that instead he could go screw himself with the Eiffel Tower and that would be no extra charge."

"That's a physical impossibility," Walter said, not looking up from his laptop.

"It wouldn't be if we were giants," Toby said. "Although I can't say I would choose the Eiffel Tower for myself. It just continually gets wider and like…" He shuddered. "I'd go more for the Empire State Building, the National Bank of Kuwait Tower, or even the Leaning Tower of Pisa if I was feeling a little freaky."

"Giant Me could get down with the Leaning Tower of Pisa," Happy said, nodding.

"I think so too. Although the Washington Monument would probably be the classic choice," Toby said. "Father of our country,  _indeed._ "

"Okay." Paige cleared her throat. "I have a potential job for us, so if we could take a brief break from talking about what buildings we would hypothetically shove up our assholes, I could tell you about it."

Walter frowned. "It is my company. I need to approve all jobs."

"Which is why I haven't accepted it yet," Paige said, expecting his opposition and having that response all ready. "But I think that as a team, potential jobs need to be discussed with everyone involved, especially since we want to get this business off the ground."

"No no," Walter said. "We can afford to have focus groups about every decision that's made once a company is established. Right now, I make all the executive decisions."

"Right now, I'm here to help you guys get established so I think you should listen to my ideas," Paige said.

Walter blinked a couple of times, then cleared his throat. "Very well. I suppose it's beneficial to take advantage while we have you. Go on."

Toby's eyebrows shot up. Paige noticed, but ignored him. "There is a parade in Santa Monica in a little over a month. There's a float that is expected to be there that's been having some technical problems. Their chief engineer was killed in a car accident last week and most of his mechanical secrets went with him. Happy, that's your strong suit, isn't it?"

"I knew the guy," she said. "Cane Treadwell. He was okay. My skills far surpass his."

"You think you can work out the bugs in the float?"

"Know."

"No?"

"No,  _know_ , as in I know I can. If Treadwell could do it, I can do it in my sleep."

"I knew of him too," Walter said. "He wasn't as brilliant as his employer liked to believe."

"Are you guys just impressed with no one's intelligence?" Paige asked, only half joking with them.

"Oh no," Walter said. "There are three people with higher I.Q.s than me. And roughly a dozen people with higher I.Q.s than the others. But none of them are working for companies that do most of their advertising in parades."

"I've never liked parades," Sylvester said. "Crowds make me nervous."

"We aren't going to a parade," Paige said. "The float is in a warehouse about thirty minutes away. They just need us to fix a few bugs in the technology and get the parts moving again. I might not know much…or anything…about what needs to be done, but the work order is right here and I'm sure you guys are more than capable of it." She walked to each desk, dropping a stack of papers. When she got to Walter, he was looking at her in a way that gave her the idea that he was impressed.

"Seems simple enough, boss," Toby commented, flipping through the paperwork. "This would take us an hour, tops, plus commute."

"It pays fifteen percent better than the one – person jobs we've been doing," Sylvester commented.

"And I know who the boss of this company is," Happy said. "He has already learned not to mess with me. So no problems on my end."

"Is this the guy who you threatened to castrate with a tourniquet last year?" Toby asked.

Paige coughed and took a drink of her water.

"No, that was Chad…" Happy frowned. "Don't remember his last name. But you know, generic white dude named Chad. I'm sure you can picture him just off that description."

"Actually, I know exactly who you're talking about," Walter said. "Chad Bodgit. I remember he suggested I, uh, go be sexually promiscuous with myself when I informed him that he was a glorified high school science teacher."

"Did he suggest what building you could use to do that?" Toby asked.

"Stop!" Paige said loudly, slamming her hand down on the desk. "I swear to God. Let's focus on the task at hand here, please? Do we want to fix this float or not?"

"When do they want us?" Walter asked.

"This Friday."

He sighed. "I suppose if this fledgling company is indeed currently a democracy, we should have a vote. All in favor?"

"Aye," chorused Happy, Toby, and Sylvester.

"All opposed?" Paige asked, for the simple formality.

"Nay," came the same three and Walter.

Paige cocked her head. "I don't think you guys really understand how this works."


	7. Chapter 7

The job had been relatively boring. An hour of Happy underneath the float, with nothing visible but her legs from the knee down. Fifteen minutes of Walter and Sylvester double and triple checking their math because Not Chad Bodgit insisted on it. Actually, it had only taken about two minutes for them to actually check their work, but it took at least another ten for Paige to get them and Not Chad to stop yelling at each other about competence and actually convince the two geniuses to just humor him and re – do the math.

That had been the most eventful part of the job. Paige was almost disappointed at the lack of excitement. Cabe Gallo was connected to Homeland and she had been expecting him to provide them with more thrilling work. She supposed that that was what they all were working toward, the trust and a reputation that would precede them.

Paige wondered if one day she – well, they, as she wouldn't be around – would miss jobs that weren't so mundane.

The job was certainly more interesting than the paperwork in front of her, but Paige Dineen had become someone who pushed through dry material to get it over with. It was a far cry from the Paige Dineen who used to do her schoolwork the period before it was due. But there were a lot of things about the present day her that past her wouldn't have recognized.

"I am heading out in the morning," Walter said from his desk. "I trust that you will keep everyone in line until I am back?"

"Oh, definitely," Paige said. "Wait, how long will you be gone?"

"I am driving to San Jose to pick up Janice," Walter said. "I told you about this on the case."

"Oh. Right. Yeah." Paige vaguely remembered him saying something when they were watching Happy's heel tap against the concrete floor. "So you'll be back?"

"The following day."

"Oh, so we're finally going to get to see her?" Toby asked.

"Why would she want to see you?" Happy retorted.

"You have all met her before," Walter said. "If I recall, there was a certain hot sauce incident."

"Yeah," Happy said with a smirk. "That was a good one."

Walter gave a deep sigh, wiping his mouth and turning to Paige. "I trust," he said again, slowly, "that you will keep everyone in line until I am back."

"Of course," Paige said. "No worries."

"No cases."

"No cases," she agreed.

"And don't let Happy and Toby go off alone. I overheard them discussing some sort of work meeting they had planned, and I must approve all work meetings. I suspect they may be making excuses to spend time together which is not to happen on the clock. Personal relationships between members of Team Scorpion is strictly forbidden. It is useless and only serves to make people less productive due to either distraction or what they believe is emotional pain."

"You…don't believe in emotional pain?" Paige was finding it more and more difficult to keep everything she had managed to find out secret from everyone else.

"I don't believe in its value." Walter clicked the pen he was holding. "It's a complete waste of mental resources."

"Alright." Paige went back to the paperwork. It looked like she only had a couple more signatures and then she would be set. This part was simple enough. "How far is San Jose from here?"

"Six hours, give or take, depending on traffic," Toby said. "Hey Walt old buddy. Do you know the way to San Jose?"

"It's a fairly straightforward drive," Walter said. "Plus there's GPS on my phone and in my car. I'll manage.""

"That's a song reference," Paige said. "You know, Dionne Warwick, though I like the Carpenters version better, in their medley."

"A song reference."

"Mmm hmmm." Paige paused a moment to think of the key. " _L.A. is a great big freeway, put a hundred down and buy a car. In a week, maybe two, they'll make you a star. Weeks turn into years, how quick they pass, and all the stars that never were are parking cars and pumping gas."_

"Lady's got some pipes," Toby said, nodding in Paige's direction.

" _I've got lots of friends in San Jose,_ " Paige continued, Toby joining in on the  _whoa whoa_ s. " _Do you know the way to San Jose?"_

"Yeah, I get the idea," Walter said. "Don't you have some paperwork to finish, Paige?"

Feeling more than a little fed up, Paige signed on the final line and then got up, dropping the stack of paperwork on Walter's desk with a pointed thud. "It's done."

Walter blinked. "Oh."

"The non – genius can get her shit done, huh?" She said. "You surprised at my efficiency? That I got us a job and we've now actually got some money to stop piggy backing off the neighbor's electricity?"

"No," Walter said, a little too quickly. "N – no. That's what I meant to say. No."

"Can you repeat that answer? You didn't really make your point clear with those three nos."

"Toby, didn't you have something to do tonight?"

"Well, yeah," Toby said slowly, "but it's like…two in the afternoon."

"Oh. Right. Well, good work today, team. This was a good first step to launching our company into a self – sufficient business. Not Chad seemed rather pleased with our work. He should give us a good rating on the Screech."

"It's Yelp," Sylvester said. "And his name isn't actually Not Chad."

"And not  _the_  Yelp, either," Toby added. "And I wouldn't bet on it. People only go on Yelp if they want to complain. Which now that I think about it, seems to suit you and Miss Quinn over here rather well. Are you sure you two aren't secretly the owners of the website?"

"Well I can't speak for Walt here," Happy said, "but if I had a website I would remember what it's called."

Paige wasn't really sure how she was supposed to keep up with the way the team's conversations bounced back and forth like this.

She supposed this was, potentially, what Cabe meant when he had referenced  _the tip of the Scorpion iceberg._

* * *

 Paige turned off the television once Ralph's show was over and turned toward her son, who had stayed in the exact same position on the couch for the entire hour. "Are we ready for bed?"

The boy made a quiet, non – committal grunt.

"Is something wrong, sweetie?" Normally, this was typical behavior for Ralph. But the past couple of days, since meeting Walter and the team, he had been much more active and verbal. She wondered if the novelty was wearing off, or if something had happened.

"No," Ralph said. "Just different."

"I know our lives have been kind of a whirlwind lately," she said, running a hand through his hair.

"The school is different. I've never been in an outdoor school before. It's big and loud."

"You get overstimulated," Paige said. "It's a change. Change can make you tired. It's normal."

"I don't want to go back."

She sighed internally. This was a constant fight between the two of them. "Ralph, you have to go to school."

"I can learn so much from Walter," the boy said, finally looking at her. "I don't need to go to school. I can be his apprentice!"

"Ralph," Paige said, glad that motherhood had fine tuned her patience. "I know you'd rather be with Mom at work, but it's illegal for someone your age to not go to school. Plus it's not like we're going to be here long ter – "

"Homeschooling is legal," Ralph said. "I don't like the kids at school. They make fun of me. I've always been the weird kid."

Paige was going to mention to him that every single member of Team Scorpion, except perhaps Cabe Gallo, were probably the weird kid growing up. But maybe – probably – that was why Ralph wanted to go there. You were more likely to understand that nothing was wrong with you when you were among others who were the same way.

"Well," she said carefully, "Walter is going to be gone the next couple of days to San Jose. If you go to school the rest of the week and try really, really hard, maybe you can pretend to be sick one day next week and you can come with me to work. Okay?"

There was a small smile on her son's face at her proposition. "Okay."

Paige cuddled Ralph close, pleased when he only stiffened up a little bit.


	8. Chapter 8

****Paige walked into the garage to see Toby flying by on some sort of makeshift sled.  When he came to a stop at the far end of the room.  Sylvester shouted something in what sounded like a made up language and Happy lifted what looked like a gun above her head and pulled the trigger.  Paige jumped, relieved when a small flame shot out of the barrel and she realized it was just a lighter.

They all fell silent when they saw her, Happy and Toby straightening up and Sylvester scrambling to his feet, clearing his throat.

Paige cocked her head to the side.  It was almost comical seeing the three geniuses getting themselves into a line and staring at her silently as if awaiting her instruction.  On the other hand… “okay, why?”

“It was a friction experiment,” Happy said.

“No, I mean the…” she trailed off.  “Actually I have no idea what I’m trying to ask.  But please put this away.  I can’t have anyone getting hurt while I’m in charge.  So clean this up and then I need you guys to get to work on the tasks that were left.  We’re on the clock, here.”

Sylvester raised his hand.

Paige sighed.  “Yes, Sylvester?”

“Are you our new Walter?”

Paige almost chuckled.  “No, I’m just your new liaison – in – charge.”  She curtseyed on a whim.

“Well, then, miss,” Toby said, tipping his hat.  “We had best get to work, then.”

It amazed her how quickly the team was coming around to her.  Paige wondered if it was because she had a genius son, they wanted to be nice to her.  Or maybe they trusted her because of her son – trusted her to be more understanding.

She looked around.  Toby and Sylvester were at the table, going over something on a laptop.  Happy was over at her work station, cleaning a tool that Paige had seen before but would have no idea where to start when it came to identification.  She looked back over at the men.

“Can I ask you a question?  It’s…not really related to what we were talking about.”

They looked up at her, and Toby glanced at Sylvester before responding.  “Okay.”

“Why do you guys antagonize Walter like you do?  I mean, I know that he’s…frustrating.  But you guys keep working with him and you seem to care about him…”

“Walter wants to shut everyone and everything out,” Sylvester said.

“And if he’s yelling at us, it means he cares about us,” Toby said.  “He tells us not to form attachments because he’s convinced that Scorpion will fall apart.  He says it’s pointless to have attachments, but…”

“But in wanting to keep us together, he’s showing that he _is_ attached,” Sylvester finished.

Paige was quiet for a moment. “Oh, I see.”  She gave a slow nod.  “Well, that’s something to think about.  So you guys wish he was more expressive?”

“Well, he didn’t used to be this bad,” Toby said.  “Not _quite_ this bad anyway,” he emphasized off a look from Happy.  “He’s just gotten worse since his sister died.  I’m assuming you know about that given that you haven’t prodded more into the why of it all.  Cabe probably told you.  He generally doesn’t like to invade people’s privacy to provide others with a heads up, but he seems to have taken to you.  He thinks you’ll be good for us, and he could be right.  But the only way we’re going to be a functional, competent team is if we mesh well together, and I don’t mean that in a dirty way unless we’re talking about the delectable mechanic to my right.”

A hissing sound escaped from between Happy’s teeth as she glared at Toby.

“I’m just saying,” Toby said, slightly louder, “we don’t work together as well as we could.  But it’s very difficult to bring Walter around.  And not just because of the way he is.  Because of what’s happened in his life.  So I guess we razz on him partly because that’s just how we are, and partly because we just want him to feel _something_.”

“That makes sense,” Paige said.  “I just see such…such potential in him.  Potential to feel.  And to be able to function with people.  But if he doesn’t want to improve on that, I don’t know what I can do.  It’s not like I have a background in bringing people around like this.”

“But you believe in him,” Toby said.  “We can all tell by how you talk about him.  I don’t know if it’s because he’s so much like your son or if you just have a lot of faith in people in general or something else, but you believe in him.  And hey, that makes you better than anyone else we have had walk in here to try and do what you’re here to try and do.”

“Well, thanks.  I guess.”

“It’s a compliment,” Toby said.  “I promise.”

Paige smiled.

She jumped for the second time in not too many minutes when the door to the garage opened. “Cabe!”

“Hey, kids,” the older man said.  “I got a job, if you’re interested.”

“From Homeland?” Sylvester asked.

“Nah.  A guy in my building who wants to finish up some game he’s about to send out for beta testing and he needs assistance with the 3D graphics.  He’s in deep caca with his bosses if it’s not done tomorrow, so he’s willing to pay decently.  He heard about us fixing that float.”

“Don’t we need Walter for computer stuff like that?” Paige asked.

“Walter is the best at computers and coding,” Happy acknowledged, “but all of us, all of us,” she emphasized, gesturing to herself and Toby and Sylvester, “we all have good computer knowledge.  There are things only Walt can do, but this job doesn’t sound like something that limiting.”

“And 3D graphics require a lot of knowledge of trigonometry and linear algebra,” Sylvester said.  “And that’s my thing.”

“But Walter did say that we are not to take any cases while he’s gone,” Toby reminded them.

“You suddenly want to play by Walter’s rules?” Happy asked.

“I didn’t say that,” he said, “I’m just pointing it out so when he comes home and screams at us, I can say that at least I said it.”

“I think the call should be on the person who Walter left in charge,” Paige said, a small idea forming in her mind.  “And I think we absolutely should do it.  Because we’re Scorpion.  We’re go getters.  We want to get this company off the ground, and this is the way we’ll do it.”  She turned to Cabe.  “We’re in.”

“Excellent,” Cabe said.  “The guy works from home most of the time, so he said to just let him know when you’ll be over and he will be ready.”

“We can go right now,” Happy said.  “Sly and I can.  I can help him be more effective with the electricity to his computers, and you can get his graphics taken care of.  It may take a couple hours, but easy money.”

“Report back to us regularly,” Paige said.  “And don’t answer any calls from Walter.  We don’t want him shutting this down.  He will see later that it  was the right thing to do.”

“Got it.”  Sylvester swung his bag over his shoulder and followed Happy out the door.

When they were gone, Paige looked back in Toby’s direction.  The behaviorist was looking at her with his eyebrows so high she almost couldn’t see them under his hat.  “You are walking a thin line, here, songstress,” he said.

She smiled at him, feeling oddly confident, and oddly content.  “I know.”


	9. Chapter 9

"Hey, baby," Paige said, hunkering down and holding out her arms when she saw her son walking toward her. Ralph kept walking at the same pace until he reached her, allowing her to hug him. "How was school today?"

"Can we go home now?" He asked.

Paige ran her hand through his hair. "Or do you want to go to Mom's work?"

"Is Walter back?"

Her son's face had lit up. Paige almost hated to answer and see that go away. "No, honey, not quite yet. But Happy and Toby and Sly and Cade are there."

"Cabe."

"Yes, the older gentleman, remember?"

"You said Cade. Cade was the last name of the landlord. In Stuyvesant. That kicked us out. The guy at the garage is Cabe. First name."

"Right." Paige hadn't even realized what she had said. "Right. That's right. Cabe Gallo."

"We can go."

Paige smiled, straightening up and putting her hand on Ralph's back as she turned toward the car. "Okay. Maybe Sylvester and Happy can tell you about the job they did yesterday."

"Was it something really cool?"

"I think so," Paige said with a smile. In actuality, she didn't really think so. But she was sure that some of the technical stuff would be right up her son's alley. "Are you ready to go?"

He nodded. And then he took her hand.

* * *

As she had predicted – or hoped, rather – Ralph had listened alertly as Happy and Sylvester had told him about the job. Happy looked as animated as Paige had ever seen her, though admittedly, she hadn't seen her all that much. But even she could tell that the younger woman was maximizing Ralph's excitement with the way she was talking, and Paige both appreciated it as well as wondered if Happy was starting to open up in general.

"Now," Sylvester said. "I gotta go work on getting this place looking the way we are hoping it can in a few months, and then we gotta take it all down, so why don't you head upstairs, we have some brain teasers set up on the table by the couch for you. And they're pretty hard, but we know you can crack 'em. Okay?"

Ralph looked over at Paige. "Can I go up there, Mom?"

"Yeah, go ahead, baby," she said, giving him a brief smile before turning back to her paperwork. She had just completed everything to do with the case they had done the day before, and just had to get preliminary stuff done for a job they would probably be doing on Wednesday, pending Walter's approval, of course. It had been nice to be able to work more organically the past day and a half, but Paige knew when he came back, they would have to ease him into the change she knew everyone wanted.

She finished the preliminary paperwork and started to organize her desk, and then there was a familiar creak. Paige looked up at the sound of the garage door. A man she didn't recognize – but who looked entirely too comfortable with being in the garage – was walking into the main room. "Hi," she said, getting up and crossing the room, stopping a pace or two in front of him. "I'm Paige Dineen. I'm the…I work here. And who might you be?"

"Oh," the man said, sticking out his head. "I'm Ray Spiewack. I'm Walter's best friend."

For some reason, Paige felt that if she had asked Walter, the answer would have been a little different.

"Oh, well, he isn't…can you come back later tonight?" She asked.

"Nowhere to go, really. I live in San Jose now," Ray continued. "But when Walter came to pick up Annie, I thought I might tag along and see how my old L.A. stomping grounds are faring."

"Who is Annie?" Paige glanced off to the side, hoping that one of the team would jump in and provide her with the necessary details. But Happy and Toby were off in the corner, engaged in what looked like intimate conversation, Sylvester was deep in thought as he observed the new Scorpion sign, and Cabe was off picking up the paycheck from a job that she and he had run that morning.

"Annie. Annie Kelly. Walter's girl." Ray tapped his temple. "Come on, Patty, I know that Walter told you. It's the whole reason he came down to San Jose."

Paige wasn't entirely listening, nor fully registering that Ray was wandering off in the general direction of the refrigerator. She was processing something Ray had said earlier.  _He hitched a ride with Walter and Janice. And he's here and so that means…_

"Shit." Paige whirled around. The garage looked entirely different. The past two days had been full of change, and the team had decided that they were going to propose and introduce their new ideas to Walter slowly. It was supposed to look like normal when Walter got back – which wasn't supposed to be for another eight hours. And they'd been taking jobs. " _Shit_!" She opened her mouth again, to shout a warning to the two geniuses off to the side. Before she could say anything else, Happy grabbed the front of Toby's jacket and pulled him down, mashing her mouth to his as there was another creak of the garage's front door.

" _Hey_!"

Toby and Happy broke apart, turning just as Paige did.

Walter stood just inside the door, appearing larger than he was just two days prior. Standing just behind him, and to his right, stood a thin blonde woman who could only be his sort – of – girlfriend, Janice Keller. Her eyes were rapidly scanning the room while the rest of her remained stock still.

Paige felt herself pale several shades at the look of complete fury on Walter's face. She realized that she really did not know him well enough to know what he was like when he was this angry. Did he use derogatory language? Did he get physically violent?

_I brought my son here._

"What is going on here?"

He wasn't yelling. But he might as well have been.

"Boss!" Toby said, more than a little too loud. "Hey. We were just, uh…hi Janice!"

"Hi, Toby," she said, her eyes briefly resting on the behaviorist before resuming their rapid – fire. "Uh, Walter, I think I should go and see what Ray is up to."

Paige wordlessly pointed in the general direction that the strange man had gone. Janice cleared her throat and hurried off in that direction.

"Uh…" Happy said awkwardly, glancing at Toby. "I have stuff to do, so…"

"Yeah. Me too. But not…not with…definitely in the opposite direction from Ms. Quinn, here." And it looks as if she is heading for the rocket so I think I'll just slip…slip on by here, and…" Walter's eyes bore into Toby as he walked around his boss in a wide circle until he could dart for the door.

Walter turned back to Paige, slowly beginning to walk toward her. "Paige," he said slowly, his eyes still flashing with anger.

"Walter," she replied.

"Perhaps you could, um, clear something up for me."

"Uh…o – okay."

"Were Happy and Toby…" he began, his tone still betraying the amount of anger that was underneath it, "or could I have just imagined it, perhaps, were Happy and Toby  _kissing_  each other just now? Out in the open? With nothing said about it?"

Paige had grown up with a mother who always tried to lie her way out of a situation. She briefly considered attempting that now. But instead, she just smiled. "Yes, Walter."

"Ah." He furrowed his brow. "And all these…frivolous…items, around the room?"

"Accessories. Decorations. Just ways to spruce this room up into a clean, visually stimulating work space."

Walter grunted. "Do you not recall that I  _specifically asked_  that you keep things quiet and normal around here? As in  _no change_? Especially  _not as in letting team members be affectionate with one another_?"

"Sometimes change is good," Paige said. "Science certainly isn't the same as it was a hundred years ago. Or even ten years ago. What if all the world's scientists just collectively decided to shove a stick – or a building – up their asses and not allow things to evolve?"

"You know," Walter said, "I know you're not a genius, but I did – mistakenly, apparently – think you were intelligent enough to be capable of following my extremely simple instructions."

Paige felt her own anger boiling up. "That's funny," she said, an edge to her voice, "because I know you are – apparently – a genius, and yet you aren't intelligent enough to realize that you hired me to make this company more viable and are now angry at me for doing my job."

" _Doing_  your  _job_?" Walter was yelling now. "This isn't your job! Your job is to do what I tell you! Your job is to help me keep my team  _safe_  and  _together_  so we can become an independent company! Decorations and accessories are  _distractions_.  _Relationships_  are distractions, and relationships  _end_ , and then where are we? You can't keep something together like this! You have to be  _efficient_ , and…"

"Oh, fuck that crap logic," Paige snapped. "You're so busy hiding in your work that you either refuse to or aren't capable of understanding what this company really needs. Ba ba!" She said in warning when he opened his mouth to speak again, holding up a finger to silence him. She was surprised when it worked and he hesitated, allowing her to continue on. "I read the file on the history of this company, you know. Before I flew out here. And I know that you found all these people and got them together so they wouldn't feel alone, or like some freak show. And you told me that it was that need that made you hire me so I would come here and expose Ralph to other geniuses. But what makes you think I even want my son around you people? You refuse to let anyone feel anything. You're doing all these experiments and being stingy about what jobs you take on because you need to control every little aspect of everything in order to protect yourself. And for the love of fuck, that's no way to live, Walter. And I am  _doing my job_  when I tell you that. What this team needs is love. And the others, they love you. And I know you love them, but you have a horribly toxic way of showing it."

There was yet another creak of the front door, and Cabe marched in, staring down at a piece of paper. "Hey Paige, great news, they tipped us like twenty percent on…" he lifted his head, trailing off when he saw Walter and, no doubt, their confrontational stances. "Hoo boy."

"Cabe," Walter said. "Paige."

She raised her eyebrows, waiting for more.

Walter cleared his throat. "I think you need to leave." He glanced at Cabe, then back at Paige. "I will fulfill what I had promised when you came and buy your plane ticket."

"What?"

"Go home and pack your things. This minute. And then you're returning to New York City."

* * *

It was after Paige and Ralph had gotten home and she'd gotten him settled on the couch with his video game that she wondered if her son had heard her swearing at Walter.

It was an odd thing to focus on. She knew that. So much had happened that day; Ralph hearing the word  _fuck_  really should be low on her list of worries. But as she sat at the table –  _her_  table, even though she hadn't been here long, stirring her coffee with a cinnamon stick and watching the game playing out on the television, she couldn't help but worry that he had.

Sylvester had texted her an hour before.  _Accident downtown. Busses all off schedule, so staying at the garage tonight. Walter is upstairs. He hasn't talked to me._

Paige assumed if the two men had had a conversation, she would have been updated. But when she checked her phone, no new message notifications had come up on the display.

So Sylvester Dodd and Walter O'Brien were existing together in silence at that old, musty garage.

She assumed Walter had already put everything back the way it was, tossed the things she had purchased into the box he was scrawling her name on when she'd picked up her son and left so quickly, and was now trying to find the quickest and cheapest flight possible to Manhattan. She knew she had to get to packing. She hadn't known him long, but Walter was nothing if not efficient, and Paige highly doubted she would still be in Los Angeles in forty – eight hours.

She supposed, if nothing else, she got to learn that her son was a beautiful mind, and she would always be glad she had heeded Drew's advice to come out here. He had inadvertently given the child he had fathered but never cared for one of the greatest gifts anyone could give – the realization that he was special, and not alone.

Her phone buzzed. She looked down. Her phone usually only showed a preview of the message, but this one was so short the entire thing showed up without her going to her messaging app.

_He just stromed out._

The misspelling told Paige that Sylvester was still very distressed. When he didn't immediately notice his typo and send a correction, that only confirmed it.

She jumped at the sound of a small explosion, even though she had heard it hundreds of times. She looked up to see the last of the virtual debris raining around the cartoon landscape on the television screen.

This game had to be too easy for Ralph. She needed to look into more complicated methods of entertainment…but then she would probably run into unnecessary sex, violence, and gore. Paige sighed as she realized that her son would be skirting the line between childhood and adulthood until he was grown.

Her coffee was getting cold. Paige stood up and crossed over to the microwave, sticking the mug inside and pressing the numbers before she remembered that this microwave had pre-programmed options. She hit the reheat button and tapped her fingers on the countertop. Back to that old microwave that only worked half the time and occasionally sparked.

She would have her cut of the jobs they'd taken in the past couple days, of course. Even though she hadn't done much of the actual labor, she would be entitled to the pre – determined share.

It would go toward new shoes for Ralph or a textbook for him to read before anything for her, but Paige let herself briefly entertain the idea of a microwave like this one.

It beeped, and she removed the mug, sitting on the edge of the table. Realistically, it was probably going to just get cold again. She was doing so much thinking, so much planning and so much plain zoning out that she was just holding the mug for something to do. When she finally lifted it to her lips, it was tepid again, making her realizing how long she had been there, staring blankly.

Decided against heating it up again, dumping the mug in the sink and then fishing out the cinnamon stick. She dropped it onto a paper towel. It could be reused.

There was a knock at her door, and Paige glanced over at Ralph before circling the table and opening it the few inches the chain would allow.

She blinked in surprise. "Walter."

"Hi." His hands were shoved in his pockets, and his upper lip was slightly rolled under. "Can…uh…can I come in?


	10. Chapter 10

Paige closed the door.

She debated not opening it again, because how dare he scare her into thinking he might get violent and then, when she retreated to the safety of her home, he show up there, too. But then she sighed, knowing that that was an overreaction. Just because she didn't know what he was like angry didn't mean he was dangerous. And his expression seemed…not soft, not really, but there was something that gave her the impression that he wasn't here to continue their fight.

She had only known him for a week or so, but she liked him, most of the time. She knew that going back to New York without a civil goodbye would feel wrong.

So she slid the chain back and opened the door again, this time far enough for him to come inside. "Yeah. Come in," she said, even though the  _come in_  was more of a mumble.

"Hi Walter," Ralph said, turning around on the couch. He didn't come over. Paige silently thanked him for understanding that it wasn't the time, choosing to believe that was why, and not that he was anxious as to how to behave after the events of earlier in the day.

"Hi Ralph," Walter said. He had taken his hands out of his pockets, but once inside the apartment, he shoved them back in as he turned to face her. "I, um…"

He was clearly uncomfortable, and Paige cleared her throat, looking around him. "Ralph, sweetie."

"Can I use your laptop?"

"Yeah, that's fine just…no new websites okay?"

"Mmm hmm." The boy took the computer from the chair, flashed a small smile in Walter's direction, then headed off toward his room.

"You wanna go sit?" Paige asked, gesturing vaguely toward the living area.

"Oh, oh, y – yeah, th – that sounds good." Walter nodded vigorously, seeming relieved. Paige gestured again, but when he didn't seem to realize that that motion meant  _after you_ , she headed toward the couch, letting him follow her lead. It made her think of a video she watched once, with Julie Andrews interviewing Maria Von Trapp. The older woman had told Andrews that she learned a lot of words for things while on the boat to America, and thinking it was the appropriate way to ask that someone else go into a room first, she once told a Bishop to scram. That story always made Paige giggle, and she was glad that she could cover her mouth to hide it from Walter, who likely would wonder what about their current situation was funny.

She sat down on one end of the couch, and Walter settled on the other end, their knees pointed toward each other. She bit her lip, wondering if she should start and, if so, what she should say.

"I'm here," Walter said after a moment, "because I…behaved badly. Earlier." He paused. "When we had our confrontation in the garage."

"I knew what you were referring to," Paige said, wanting to remain guarded but feeling herself softening right up at his words. He was apologizing. Walter O'Brien was apologizing. Even though she hadn't known him long, Paige knew how big that was.

Now she wasn't sure he would get through the entirety of what he had come to say without ruining it, but it was a step. And she was proud of him. Prouder than she realized she could be of someone who had been in her life less than a month. But that was the effect he had. It was like she felt everything more intensely around him. What she would normally think about for a moment or so, an oh, that's progress, was manifesting itself here as intense pride, and just a couple of hours ago she had been thinking that every thought of him, for the rest of her life, would make her feel nothing but anger.

Realistically that wouldn't have been the case, even if he wasn't here right now. He would always be the one who gave her the key to her child.

"Right, any…anyway," Walter stammered, wringing his hands and shifting his weight on the cushion. "I behaved badly. I said that already, didn't I? Oh…" he bit his lip, looking down.

"I'm far too outspoken," Paige said gently. She wasn't the one who needed to do the apologizing, but he was just so…it was so clear he had no idea how to do this. She wondered if he had ever apologized before. "It's one of my worst faults."

"No," Walter said, shaking his head, making eye contact with her again. "I wasn't…I wasn't entirely honest with you about why I wanted you to work here."

She cocked her head. "You mean the part about Ralph or the part about you wanting your company to be better?"

"Everything I have said to you about Ralph has been the complete truth," Walter said quickly, and she believed him because it was the only sentence he had said tonight that he hadn't tripped over and that had to mean that he felt it wholeheartedly. "I mean…you don't know this, but I…I had a sister."

Paige cleared her throat. "Oh?"

"Her name was Megan. Megan Colleen O'Brien. She died. Over a year ago, now. She was older than me. And she…she always sort of took care of me. As you might imagine or…or have noticed with your son, I…" he grunted. "I had a hard time growing up. She was always there for me. She was the only person I ever cared to spend time around. I actually looked forward to the times we spent together."

There was a silence. A long one. Paige didn't press.

Walter drew in a deep breath. "When she died, I…it was like there wasn't any meaning left in my life. Which didn't make sense, because my life's work is…to make the world better, that never ends. I suppose it scared me, how much my feelings for a human being could affect me. So I decided that it was best to never let myself feel again." He swallowed. "That wasn't right. I had created Scorpion as a safe haven and then I turned around and made it as cold as the rest of the world. And I was pushing them away because I did care about them, even though I told myself that that wasn't smart. So…so being strict and stern, it…it seemed like the only option. When I saw them today, they…they all seemed almost content. And I want to be content too. I don't…" he frowned, looking down at his hands again. "I don't know that I ever truly was. But I was somewhere better than the place I've been this past year. And I may have forgotten what that place is like." He looked up at her. "But I want to remember. I think it would be good if I do. But while I initially was just hoping having you around would shut Cabe up about us needing someone with good social skills to help us launch the company, and that you would just listen to what I had to say and we would go on as before…" he took in another deep breath, but this time it sounded like a shudder. He was nervous about whatever it was he was going to say next. Paige wanted to reach out and cover his hands with one of hers, but she had learned rather quickly that he usually recoiled at someone's touch. Walter frowned, as if annoyed with himself, then continued. "I don't think we can survive as a company. Without some change. I see now that we need it. But we can't….we can't do it without you, Paige."

She cocked her head to the side, feeling her heart rate pick up. "So…"

"So I would like you to stay," Walter said. He bit his lip. "But that's not…obviously not a demand or anyth…I'm  _asking_  you to stay. Paige."

She smiled, and she swore that when she did the corners of his mouth turned up, ever so slightly. She briefly wondered if he was smiling because this had gone well or if her smile had made him smile.

She - much less briefly - wondered why she had wondered that.

* * *

 "Oh,  _yay_!"

Paige was surprised to realize that the child like voice had come from Toby, and was even more surprised when the behaviorist  _bounced_  over and threw his arms around her, pinning her own arms to her sides.

"Paige!" Sylvester was the next to rush over, and he hugged her from her other side. Paige couldn't help but grin. "So does this mean you aren't leaving us?"

She had already told him that she still had a job, but his enthusiasm made her feel good. "Well, not yet, anyway," she said with a smile. New York would still call her back home before many months had passed, but as for now…

"So you're still here. Any jobs for us, or you just taking up another spot on the payroll?"

Paige sensed that was Happy's version of what Toby and Sylvester were doing. "Well," she said to the mechanic, "there's that one I had the preliminary paperwork done on that we can do later in the week."

"I'm about to go out to Kovelsky's and get lunch," Toby said, lifting his eyebrows at Paige. "One, do you want anything, and two, how are you just getting here now? We're halfway through the day already."

The truth was, Ralph had come back out of his bedroom to get the laptop charger and had seen Paige and Walter smiling at each other. One thing had led to another and the two geniuses had ended up spending hours playing Ralph's game. When she finally got the boy to sleep, it had been late, and with his need for a solid ten hours and the emotional exhaustion of the day, both of them had slept through multiple alarms. Thankfully, when she had texted Walter slightly afraid she'd blown her new chance, he had told her to take her time.

She realized he wasn't anywhere to be found. He must be out with Janice.

"Paige."

Or not. She lifted her eyebrows and smiled as the blonde woman walked toward her, a small smile on her face. "Hi. You must be Janice Keller."

"That would be right," she said with a nod. "We didn't get properly introduced yesterday."

"How was your drive?" Paige asked. It wasn't the question that she wanted to pose.  _Doesn't it bother you that you're dating a man who doesn't like you as much as you like him? Are you guys really going to get married just because? Is he just going to agree to it for the tax benefits? Is it true you guys don't have any intimacy?_

"Oh, it was fine," Janice said. "I don't really like cars all that much. I'm more of a boat person, but it's much quicker to just hop in a car. More efficient, Walter would say."

"Yeah. For sure. Where is Walter, anyway?"

"He and Ray went out this morning."

"So they're really best friends?"

Janice gave a little laugh. "Oh goodness, no. I mean, Ray likes to think he's Walter's best friend. But Ray likes to think that he's most people's best friend. Walter didn't really know what to make of him at first, but Ray has grown on him. I think because he is just so different from everyone here."

"Because he's not a genius."

"Not a genius, very carefree, he's kind of a…he's like a criminal by hobby, almost. Never anything big, or serious, he's not violent. He just loiters, and sometimes eats a donut while shopping and then doesn't pay for it." She raised her eyebrows. "If you last around here, be prepared for a ton of puns relating to his name."

"What do you mean?"  _It really doesn't feel weird that you're only dating Walter because you want to and because he feels it makes him look better?_

"Like when he leaves, he's probably going to say that he shall rayturn."

Paige giggled.

"Anyway." Janice cleared her throat. "I'm on my way to an interview. It was nice to officially meet you after everything I'd heard."

Paige nodded. "Yeah, you too."  _I get it, he can be sweet, and he cares about the world, and he really seems to have a lot of love to give, but…are you really happy with this arrangement? I couldn't be._

She watched Janice go. Her relief at still having a job in Los Angeles had briefly made her forget just how strange this place was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.S. if anyone wants to watch the clip Paige referenced in her head in the first part of this chapter, just go to YouTube and put "Julie Andrews Interviews Maria Von Trapp" and it's in part one, she starts talking about learning English around the 5:30 mark.


	11. Chapter 11

To: paigedineen@bakerenterprises.hbu

From: drewbaker@bakerenterprises.hbu

Subject: Update

_Hello, Paige,_

_I was just checking in to see how you were doing.  Your last e – mail said that you might be coming home early, but I have heard nothing else since then.  Please just let me know how the job is going._

_Thanks, Drew._

Paige flipped her hair over her shoulder and took a sip of coffee before clicking the reply button, angling the laptop away from the other desks even though no one in the common area was even looking in her direction.

_Hey Drew,_

_Things are going very well, actually.  Sorry I didn’t keep you posted on the situation.  As you probably have guessed, given that it’s been over a week now, that was a false alarm._

_I have many ideas for a record that I would like to talk to you with in more detail when you have time.  It could wait until I get back but I am quite excited about it and I don’t particularly want to wait several months.  This music wouldn’t be all that like what my selection for the bars have been.  But I have a passion for it, I think.  For the ideas specifically, and if this is what this is, that hasn’t happened to me before.  Is it too early to have a title in mind?  Because I’m thinking “Humans.”  Or should I just keep it to my name?  That’s what Taylor Swift did, right?_

_Anyway, I’m sure I’ll talk to you soon._

_Paige._

She clicked send, clicking her tongue once and glancing up as Walter crossed in front of her, even though he wasn’t trying to see her screen.  She felt bad that she hadn’t been in better contact with Drew, but she was out here to find herself, and all that, right?  Constantly talking to people from home wasn’t going to help her figure out her identity.  But she _was_ getting excited about the new ideas she had for an album.  An album.  Her album.  She could feel the excitement all the way down to her toes.

Maybe this was the feeling Drew had sent her to find.

Walter had just joined Sylvester to the side of the room, both of them studying a white board.  Their postures were relaxed.

Paige smiled.  Obviously nothing was going to be fixed immediately.  But there had been a conscious effort on Walter’s part these past days to connect more with his team, and they were responding to it.  Toby was a little less snarky, Sylvester a little less anxious, and Happy a little less closed off.  It was only baby steps, but Paige could see the potential.  They already all loved each other.  It was just a matter of fully embracing that.

And now that she had seen Walter and Ray interact, it was clear that her boss was genuinely fond of the strange man.  Ray clearly was no genius – he had succeeded in breaking several appliances in the garage in the week he had been here – but that almost didn’t seem to matter.  Paige supposed she shouldn’t be surprised.  His sister hadn’t been a genius either, although Walter had told Paige that she _had_ been “in her own way.”  For someone who wasn’t good at connecting with people, and who claimed he didn’t want to, Walter sure found himself developing attachments to those around him.

He really was quite fascinating.

Although fascinating wasn’t the word that Paige would use to describe his relationship with Janice.  _That_ was confusing as all get out.  It was so clear to Paige that Janice had some sort of real feelings for Walter – she smiled whenever he was speaking and would touch his shoulder when they stood next to each other, something that bothered Paige – and yet Walter seemed to return none of her affectionate feelings.  He didn’t seem to pay attention when she spoke, he lightly flinched at her touch, and it seemed as if sometimes he had to be reminded to give her any attention at all.

Maybe they were just together for the companionship?  There didn’t have to be passion in a relationship.  Sometimes two people were just comfortable with each other and decided to be together and there was no weak knees or warm eyes and that worked.  Maybe, Paige thought, that was what was going on with Walter and Janice.  The team had told her, after all, that he didn’t start dating her due to feelings but because that was what people did.  So maybe that was it.  Companionship.

Except she saw nothing special in his eyes when he looked at her and there was the whole flinching thing.  Paige shook her head.  She was back to confused.

“Hey, team,” Cabe said, marching into the garage and letting the door swing behind him.  “I got us a job, and it’s pretty cushy.”

“Cushy like the tushy,” Toby said, leaning over and patting Happy on the bottom.

She swatted him.  “We are at _work_.”

“What’s the job?” Walter asked, capping a marker and walking over with Sylvester.

“There’s this rich fella out in the Beverly Hills area,” Cabe said, “name is Lebeau.  Rumor has it he has some stolen artwork in his mansion and he’s using a big party tonight as a smoke screen for smuggling it out of the country.  A wealthy private party is willing to pay us a big wad of cash if we manage to catch him and recover the painting.”

“I’ve never understood why things like that are so valued,” Walter said.

“But…” Paige jumped up, holding up a hand to hopefully silence him before he told Cabe they weren’t interested, “we have a chance to earn a lot of money here, and that’s what a lucrative business does, right?”

Walter looked at her for a few moments, and then shrugged.  “I suppose.  This party is tonight?”

“Yep,” Cabe said.  “It starts in six hours.  All of you able to take part?”

“I mean, I don’t have anything to wear,” Paige said, biting her lip.  “I’m not being a diva,” she protested when five heads turned toward her.  “I’m poor.  I don’t have nice clothes.  And I assume this isn’t casual.”

“You would be correct,” Cabe said.  “Our client has some uniforms that would suit Happy and Toby.  Walter, I assume you have a suit?”

Walter grunted and nodded.

“Good.  Paige, the client can provide you with an appropriate dress, so don’t worry about that.  But I gotta get an official okay before I tell them.”  His eyes scanned the team, eyebrows raised.  Everyone took turns glancing at each other and nodding, and then all eyes fell on Walter.

He was quiet a moment, then nodded.  “Sure.  Let’s go make some money.”


	12. Chapter 12

Paige was extremely self – conscious. Her entire wardrobe probably cost less than the dress she was wearing to the party, and her hair, while a fairly simple visual, was the result of some products that she would have filled up her online shopping cart with and then closed the tab when she saw the total on one of those rainy Saturdays in the tiny New York apartment. Despite this extravagance, when she'd finished with her hair and put on the dress, she had stared at herself in the mirror and felt like a fraud. She was a poor wannabe singer from the Bronx who struggled to pay the bills and who had been put out by more than one landlord. She knew she was pretty when she cleaned up, but not pretty enough to wear something like this. She looked awkward and fake, she was certain of that.

Now, when she'd stepped back out into the loft with a  _is this okay?_  Happy's eyebrows had shot straight up into her hairline and Walter had – very enthusiastically – told her that yes, it was. That made her feel a little better, but what fueled her current confidence, as they walked up toward the mansion's massive doors, was that she was walking into a high – profile case on Walter O'Brien's arm (though she had to remind him to offer it to her) and she certainly could not rely on him to smooth talk his way into anything. It was all on her.

And if there was one thing a poor single mother was good at, it was making things happen under extreme fear and stress because there was no other option.

She smiled when Walter gave their fake names to the gentleman at the door, only slightly scared that perhaps his hacking had actually not been perfect and the names wouldn't be on the list after all. The man glanced down and tapped his pen against the clipboard, then nodded and waved them in. Paige internally chided herself for doubting the hacking ability of the one and only Walter O'Brien. All they had to do was get a cloning device close within a certain distance of the suspect for three minutes' time – and hope that Happy and Toby were able to locate the stolen painting without tipping off security.

In many ways, she and Walter had the easier job.

"So we just have to get close enough to Lebeau to clone his phone," she said, thinking it might be awkward for them to not be speaking with one another, "that's right?"

"Mmm hmm," Walter said, glancing around the room, seeming extremely uncomfortable. "Lot of people milling about."

"Uh – huh," she said as they started down a wide staircase. "I hope we don't stand out."

Realistically, she knew that wasn't likely. She was dressed just as well as anyone in here, and Walter looked extremely handsome in his suit and bow tie. They were here as a couple and they looked the part. She shouldn't worry.

"I think it may be wise for you to keep me from talking much tonight," Walter said. "I am not accustomed to these social events and may put my foot in my mouth. Which I've recently come to learn is an idiom and not literal."

"No way," she said, sarcastic, but with a smile on her face. "You know, you look nice tonight."

Walter furrowed his brow. "Um. Okay."

She cocked her head. "What's that mean? We normally say thank you."

"No, I…I've been told that, I just…" He cleared his throat. "We are standing off to the side, music is playing…we don't have to convince anyone of anything right now."

So he was confused as to why she complimented him when it wasn't necessary. "I was just saying," Paige said. "But we can talk about something else. You said you're not used to social events?"

"No. No reason to go to them."

"Not even with…" Paige knew she shouldn't be so nosy about Janice. But she couldn't help herself. "Not even with your girlfriend?"

"Janice?" Walter said, as if there was another girlfriend that Paige might have been referring to. "No. We don't go out…much."

In other situation, Paige might have made some cheeky joke about the couple staying in all the time. But for some reason, here, it made her uncomfortable.

Probably because Walter was so…Walter.

She limited her response to "oh."

"There is Lebeau," Walter said, dropping his voice and gesturing with his head toward the dance floor. "We can keep an eye on him from here, and when he leaves the floor, perhaps we can speak to him about an engaging topic for the three minutes it will take to clone his phone."

Paige raised an eyebrow at him. "Or we could do something that relies a little less on you either holding a normal conversation with a strange person or you standing in complete silence while I chat him up without it looking weird." She grabbed his hand, taking a few steps in Lebeau's direction. "Let's dance next to him."

"Uh, no," Walter said quickly, tensing up and tugging his hand, failing to free it from hers.

"Why not?"

"I don't dance."

Paige gave a little huff. "Well, you do now."

"No. There certainly must be a more efficient way…"

"This  _is_  the most efficient way," Paige said firmly. She pulled on his hand again. "Come on."

He reluctantly followed her onto the dance floor, where she stopped just a few feet from Lebeau and the middle – aged woman he was smiling at. "Okay," he said awkwardly.

"Do you know where to put your hands?" She asked. At his blank stare, she helped him, taking one hand in hers and directing him to put the other on her back. He placed it right between her shoulder blades, and she gave a little giggle. "Walter, you're not pushing me on a swing. Put your hand lower." She felt it slide down – just a fraction. "Lower. Still lower…good. Now just keep it there, okay?"

"Mmm hmm," he said, not making eye contact with her.

"It's only three minutes," she said, trying to make her voice as gentle and reassuring as possible. "Look at me." He did. "There you go. You really haven't slow danced before? Not even…" she trailed off on purpose and cleared her throat. She needed to stop asking about his relationship with Janice. There was no reason to prod as much as she had been.

"No," Walter said, "Janice and I do not go dancing." There was a moment or so of silence. "We are not one of those couples."

Paige took him offering up that information as a sign that he was open to talking about it more. "Toby said you guys kinda…it's about companionship?" Immediately she realized she had crossed a line. It wasn't her business, and she could have just gotten Toby in trouble for gossiping.

"Something like that," Walter said. "I know that romantic love is stupid. Janice believes in it. It's fine. Couples can believe in different things, right? It's not like she goes to church or believes vaccines cause chromosomal abnormalities in children. But we get along. And a relationship does have its benefits. Like tax ones, if we were to get married."

Paige didn't know why she felt so relieved that tax benefits were the benefits Walter was thinking of. "So you think you will marry her, then."

"Perhaps." Walter had looked away, past her, when he had started talking about Janice, but now his eyes met hers again. "It depends on if we decide it's right."

Nothing about their relationship sounded right to Paige – especially if Janice had more feelings for him like the others had stated. But, she reminded herself for what had to be the one thousandth time that night, it wasn't her business. "Surely," she said, "some scientists believe in love."

"I suppose," Walter said. "Schrodinger did. He told a story once about the love he felt for his wife. He said that he couldn't explain it, the bond that they had. He said that the only time love made sense to him was when they stared into each other's eyes. And then it was like logic didn't even matter, because he saw something in her eyes that made him just  _know._ " Walter shrugged, still looking right at her. "S – stupid, I know. But…but that's what he always…"

Paige wasn't even sure if he actually trailed off or if his voice just faded away. His large, brown eyes were staring so deeply into hers she thought he might be studying the very depths of her soul. She could faintly here the orchestra strike up another, slower tune, but it wasn't nearly as loud as it should have been, with them only yards away. And was it only her imagination that Walter's hand briefly disappeared from her back, only to slip back into place in a way that suggested this was suddenly feeling  _comfortable_?

Because Paige certainly was, not necessarily comfortable, but content. Something about this felt so, so right.

"Walter, uh," she started, stopping when she realized she really had no idea where she was going with that sentence.

"Mmm?"

It was a quiet, non – verbal response. But Paige felt a rush of warmth rush through her body. "I…I don't know."

"Hmm."

It occurred to her that they had completely stopped dancing, and were just standing there, almost nose to nose, standing close enough together for their bodies to touch, if only just barely. She knew that anyone watching them had to think they were acting strange, standing out, doing exactly what they were supposed to do. But she couldn't move. Not with him looking at her like that.

"I…uh…we're kinda…"

"Sorry," Walter said, his voice still low. "I don't suppose I'm used to dancing." He cocked his head. "May be the light. But your face is all red."

Paige shook her head vigorously as if that would hide her blush. The brief reprieve from looking into Walter's eyes helped clear her head just enough so she could take a step back away from him. "Uh, it has to have been…"

Walter pulled the recording device out of his pocket and looked at it, a satisfied look coming over his face.

"Download complete?"

"Download complete."

* * *

 Happy and Toby had gotten the painting, and the private contractor had already wired money into their account by the time Team Scorpion got into the van to drive back to the garage. And the entire drive home, Paige couldn't believe that they had actually pulled it off without a hitch.

Well, almost without a hitch. Happy was covered in frosting. She'd run into a giant cake. She didn't want to talk about it.

"Welcome home," Ray said cheerily, raising the mug in his hand when the team had walked through the door. "I see you have Ray-turned."

"I see the party was a success?" Janice appeared, staring down at the mug with a wrinkled nose. She had been coming from the bathroom, and Paige suspected she had been in there pouring out whatever was in the mug. Ray probably had made whatever it was. She made a mental note to empty out the coffee pot.

"Quite," Sylvester said. "We're rich! Well, not rich. But wealthier than we were before."

"And that's a good day for anybody," Toby said.

"Not me," Sylvester said. "Money makes me nervous."

"Not good for Toby either," Happy said. "Not with the racetrack open again."

"We were watching on the big screen over there," Ray said. "The feed that Sylvester was watching in the truck. You guys left it logged into the smart TV."

Paige felt some of the blood drain from her face. Janice was looking at her. Was she angry at Paige's insistence regarding the dance floor? "Janice," she said quickly.

The other woman waved a hand dismissively. "The dancing was beautifully done," she said. She smiled, then glanced at Walter. "What a lovely couple you make."

"I'm confused," Walter said.

"Oh, I just mean that the two of you dancing together was a very attractive picture," she said, slinging an arm around Walter's neck and kissing his cheek. "That's all. A woman can appreciate that. Even if she is not a part of that picture."

"I think we should go somewhere to celebrate," Cabe said, either oblivious to the awkwardness or attempting to move past it. "Kovelsky's, anyone?"

"Yeah," Walter said, an arm resting on Janice's waist. "Sure."

"Count us in," Toby said after glancing at Happy.

"Sounds good. I gotta fill up my car with gas. Meet you all there?" At everyone's nod, Cabe exited the garage.

"I'm just gonna go change out of this," Paige said. "My clothing is still upstairs."

"Sure," Happy said. "Our clothes are in his car anyway, so we'll drive to Koveksly's and change there."

"You can go first," Walter said, nodding at Paige.

She'd forgotten that he had to get back into casual wear, too. "Oh, no, you can…"

"No, I'm told ladies first is a protocol."

"I'll come help you get out of that dress," Janice offered.

She looked like she genuinely wanted to assist. "Uh…okay," Paige said, nodding, glancing behind her periodically as she headed for and then up the stairs. Was Janice going to throttle her when they were alone? Grab her hair and try to slam her head against the wall?

They reached the loft, and Paige located her clothes, folded nicely on the couch. "I just need assistance with this zipper…" she started, and Janice was already circling around behind her, tugging at the short zipper under Paige's right arm. "Thank you."

"Of course." Janice picked up the top Paige had on the couch and held it up, studying it. "This is nice."

"It was nine dollars at Target."

"Well, then I shouldn't have been surprised about tonight, considering Walter can't keep his eyes off you even in this Nine Dollars at Target."

Paige blinked. She had noticed him looking at her a few times throughout the day… "what do you mean, he couldn't keep his eyes off me?"

"Come on, Paige," Janice said, and her tone confused Paige – she didn't seem angry or jealous; it was almost as if they were just two friends chatting. But that couldn't be it. Janice was speaking of her  _boyfriend_. The man that she was possibly going to be engaged to before too long. "We're both grown women, we are aware when a man notices us."

"Walter notices everyone," Paige said, taking her skirt from the couch and stepping into it. "He has to. He's very smart and intelligent people aren't like that because they don't pay attention to details of what's around them."

"Paige," Janice said, "Walter may be my boyfriend, but you don't have to get defensive. You have to know you're attractive. And Walter isn't asexual. He may well be on the spectrum, but I'm sure he has experienced attraction before. And if not, he certainly is now."

The word choice really made Paige think that Janice was not referring to herself. Saying…that Paige may well be the first person Walter has been attracted to? No. That couldn't be it. She had to be talking about her relationship with him. She – Janice – was the one he was attracted to. That had to be what she was saying.

It had to be.

"I don't think so. I certainly haven't done anything to…"

"But you have."

Paige had taken the top from Janice and was halfway through buttoning it when she froze at the other woman's words. "What?"

"You fell in love with him."

 _Fell in love with him?_  "No!" She said, as quickly, loudly, and vivaciously as Walter had validated the way she was dressed mere hours before.

"Really? Because you were red from head to toe when you were in his arms earlier. And I've known him a lot longer than you and I can say he's never looked at me like that – I've never seen him look at anyone like that. And that Schrodinger story? Tonight was the first time I heard it. Paige…"

"I need to go," she said suddenly. "I…Ralph…New York…" she hurriedly did up the rest of her buttons. "Janice, I have to go home. Back East."

"Okay."

Paige wasn't sure what she had been expecting her response to be. "Please," she said, "don't tell Walter. You didn't hear of any of this." Her heart was racing, making her feel panicky. "You don't know anything, okay?"

Janice blinked. "Of course, Paige. I wouldn't dream of it."

"Kovelskys." They would be at the restaurant for hours. They would assume she went home to Ralph. She and her son could be at the airport before they knew anything. "Go to Kovelskys, Janice."

"Paige," Janice said, giving her a smile. "I heard you singing along to Sylvester's music earlier. I know you'll make a very fine performer.

Paige watched Janice's back until the woman had gone.  She remained still for what felt like forever after that.  Then she sprung into frantic motion.

Hands shaking, Paige located a note pad on Walter's desk. Finding a pen was more difficult. She had to go all the way down the stairs to her desk…her desk. She hurriedly grabbed what belonged to her and shoved it in her purse before running up the stairs.

_Walter. Cabe. Happy. Toby. Sylvester._

_I am sorry. I realized tonight…at the party…how much I miss my life in New York. The feeling is scary and almost unbearable, and the only way to fix it is to return home. I have to leave._

_Goodbye, and best wishes. I know Scorpion will be a wonderful company some day. I look forward to reading about your success._

_\- Paige Dineen_

By the time she got home and pulled Ralph, sleepy and confused, out of his bed, she'd already booked the tickets on her phone. Three hours later, she was holding her son close, reminding him to keep swallowing to combat the popping in his ears as the plane gained altitude.


	13. Chapter 13

_I'm street wise; I can improvise._

_I'm street smart; I've got New York City heart._

_Why should I worry?_

_Why should I care?_

Paige switched her grocery bag to her other hand so the plastic handle wouldn't get caught in the tiny brace on her index finger. That dog in Ralph's movie was right. She was back home in New York. She had an idea for an album – an album! And she came home with knowledge of her son that would help her raise him right.

Everything – everything – was wonderful.

She reached her building and opted for the stairs, taking them two at a time for the first two flights and then one at a time after that, until she reached the fourth floor. "Ralph?" she called out as she entered the apartment. The movie had finished and was repeating through the little clip of music on the main menu screen. Her son lay on the couch. She was surprised that he had fallen asleep watching; he had been going to bed almost immediately after dinner the past couple of days.

As she found the remote and turned off the DVD player and the TV, she noticed that Ralph's eyes were open – he wasn't asleep. She cocked her head and studied him. "You okay, buddy?"

No response. He continued to stare straight ahead. Paige remembered a couple of men on the flight from LAX who had been coughing. They'd been back a week now, enough time for the incubation period to have passed.

She went into the bathroom and dug through the tiny medicine cabinet. She had only been away about a month and yet she couldn't remember where anything was. Finally locating a thermometer, she returned to the living room and sat down on the coffee table, holding it out. "Open up."

Ralph turned his head to look at her, but didn't oblige.

"Ralph. Come on. I gotta see if you have a temperature."

"Everyone has a temperature."

Paige sighed, placing her hand on his forehead. "Fine. I gotta see if you have a  _fever._ "

Ralph begrudgingly opened his mouth and lifted his tongue. Paige set an alarm on her phone.

Her mind was already racing. His forehead didn't feel warm. But if he was sick…she ran a hand through her hair anxiously, looking down at Ralph as he went back to staring at the ceiling, the thermometer wiggling slightly in his mouth in response to the movement of his tongue.

Bar singers did not have health insurance.

She had gotten her final check from Team Scorpion the day before. She had wanted to use it to help the two of them eat healthier for a while, or to perhaps send Ralph to a school in a better area that would require more costly transportation. It wasn't enough to start him a college fund, but a better school could lead to opportunities, scholarships…

The last time he was sick, four years ago, Paige had illegally subletted the apartment to cover costs and they'd slept in the bathrooms at the E.R. until someone noticed and kicked them out. Then she'd hauled him to Central Park, holding him in her lap while he slept in the warm sun, and at night, they'd wander into busy hotels and find an empty meeting room to sit in while she read quietly to him. After nearly a week, Ralph had recovered, but the nightly rate Paige was charging the subletters would only pay the hospital bills after a month and a half. She'd doubled down on looking for singing jobs, not wanting her son to be homeless that long, and it was then, on day fifteen, that she'd met Carl.

She knew he would let her sing every night to help cover another doctor bill, and he would send her home with all the leftover food he had. But Paige knew that would be taking advantage, and as long as she had money, she would need to spend it before asking anyone for help.

That was the nature of being poor. Just when you had some money saved up, your car got a flat or you tore your only pair of pants and needed to buy another or you got sick or work became less reliable and your savings vanished as quickly as your resolve. And you went on struggling, with well – to – do folks asking you why you didn't just save.

Paige supposed she could text someone back in California. She knew if she asked Walter would keep her on their health insurance long enough for Ralph to get well. She was surprised she hadn't been taken off it already, but unless the notification e – mail had come through while she was out grocery shopping, she still  _technically_  was covered.

But she didn't want to talk to Walter. She would. But she didn't want to.

She had spent the past week trying to get Janice's words out of her head.  _You're in love with him._  That was ridiculous, she had told herself countless times. They hadn't known each other very long at all. Paige didn't believe in love at first sight; falling in love with someone shortly after meeting them seemed just as unlikely. She wasn't above admitting that she did feel  _something_  for him, after all, she had grown to thoroughly enjoy his company, and she often had found herself relaxing at home with Ralph while wondering what he might be doing back at the garage. And sometimes her breath caught when their eyes met and he smiled at her.

But that could all have happened for a variety of reasons. He was, after all, the first person to really make a connection with her son. She would be a terrible mother to not appreciate him for that.

Her phone beeped. Paige silenced it, and reached over, plucking the thermometer from between Ralph's lips. She lifted it up.

"Well, you don't have a temper…you don't have a fever," she said. "Ninety – eight point eight." She reached over and smoothed down Ralph's hair. "You've been so quiet, baby. Since we got back." She knew that he hadn't been happy about leaving. "You do understand that this was just a temporary thing, right? Like that Carrie Underwood song. Los Angeles was our temporary home. And now we're back here. Where we're supposed to be."

"We didn't even say goodbye."

Paige bit her lip. "I said it in my note."

"That isn't the same thing." Ralph pulled the throw blanket up to his chin. "And you won't let me have your laptop to e – mail them."

"Sweetie," Paige said gently, reaching over and touching his hair again. "I just don't think that's a smart idea right now."

"Why not?"

"Because…because we need to get accustomed to our lives back here."

Ralph pressed his lips together. "Away from everyone like me."

Her heart ached. "Ralphie," Paige said, "I'm sure we can find some geniuses here. And this city has so much to offer intellectually. Maybe we can go to some museums on Saturday. Would that be fun? That might stimulate that brain of yours."

Ralph grunted. "The orange juice is gonna go bad if you don't put the groceries in the fridge."

Shit. Paige got up and grabbed the bags she had left near the television and moved them into the kitchen. Healthy food. At least for now, they had healthy food.

Until one of them got sick or she got laryngitis and couldn't sing.

 _Cross that bridge when you come to it._  That was another thing well – off people liked to say. Paige wished she could explain to every one of them that poor people didn't have the luxury of not worrying about things until the dreaded situation presented itself. They had to worry all the time, or they might not survive when the bad thing happened.

Fact of the matter was, the crap food was cheaper.

It was hard, very hard, to be a poor mother.

"That explains a lot," she murmured to herself. She didn't have feelings for Walter O'Brien. She just liked the financial stability, the benefits, that that job was offering. And she was supposed to have been there for longer, so she was missing the income she was supposed to have had upon returning to New York. Of course that was it. And that was a much less scary conclusion than the one that said she was head over heels for the man.

Her phone buzzed. She froze when she saw the name that popped up with the notification. She slid her finger over it, glad that the message was short enough that she could read the whole thing via the preview and wouldn't have to let Sylvester know that she'd seen the message yet.

_Hey, what's your last name again?_

Paige turned the display off and shoved her phone back into her pocket. Why did her last name matter?

He had texted her – as had Toby – the day after she and Ralph returned to New York. Toby's had been fairly standard, asking how her flight was, to please let them know if they had gotten there safely. Sylvester's had had a hint of emotion in it, ending with  _please answer._  She had – she'd answered both of them, saying that she and Ralph were fine, and thank you for asking. She had wanted to add that she had enjoyed working with them so very much, but she hadn't. It was better to keep things professional.

Paige finished putting away her groceries and yawned. The sight of her son curled up on the couch made her want to go into her room and bury herself under the covers. She stood perfectly still for a moment, evaluating how tired she was. Twice this week she had made the mistake of going to bed before she was exhausted enough to fall asleep right away, and she'd ended up awake for half the night just  _thinking_. It was dangerous to let her mind wander right now. Two nights ago she'd woken up drenched in sweat and tightly wound after an extremely inappropriate dream, and relieving that tension had caused the slight injury that the finger brace was trying to help heal. Then she'd cried, ashamed and embarrassed for allowing her subconscious to think of him that way. So now, she only went to bed when she knew she would fall asleep before her mind could conjure up those feelings and fantasies.

It only took her a moment to realize she wasn't quite tired enough yet. So she crossed into the living room and sat down in the armchair, flipping through the channels until she found an old Criminal Minds rerun. It appeared to be quite grisly, even for that show. Perfect for getting her mind off of what she shouldn't be thinking about.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all.
> 
> First off, sorry I couldn't deliver on my promise of Christmas smut. My best friend's mom passed away on the 23rd after a year long battle with cancer and as you may be able to guess when you're dealing with that it's almost impossible to be like "okay otp let's get it on." Reading steamy fic? Pretty much never a problem. Writing it? Not at the moment. I'm hoping maybe getting that fic up for New Year's instead.

_Hi. It's Happy. Happy Quinn. You might remember me. I worked at the team you dropped in on and then abandoned. Come in here, mess with Walt's head, then just vanish into thin air like a fucking hallucination. Do you even realize that we exist outside of your little journey to find yourself, or do you think if you leave, we don't continue on without you?_

The message continued on for another little bit – fourteen seconds, the voicemail screen indicated. But Paige hit the red 'end call' button, and threw the phone on her bed. "Whatever, Happy," she said under her breath. "Like I don't feel guilty enough."

She stopped cold. She felt guilty? Why did she feel guilty? She was never meant to be at Scorpion permanently. The team knew that. Sure, she had left early. But it wasn't like they had known each other for years. It wasn't like she was skipping out on family.

_Come in here, mess with Walt's head…_

Right. Because Janice thought that Walter thought he was in love with her. Paige rolled her eyes. That was such a joke. She knew that that relationship was strange, but there was no way Janice could be so off as to genuinely believe that Walter O'Brien, who didn't think romantic love was real, would be feeling those exact things for Paige Dineen.

Except there were those times when they would look at each other and Paige felt like in that moment nothing else existed. And when she was in his arms on the dance floor, she felt like she used to when she walked the New York City streets toward the recording studio.

There was something about that. And it absolutely terrified her. The thousands of miles she put between her and Los Angeles hadn't done as much to ease Paige's thoughts as she had been hoping.

Her phone started to ring again, and she warily looked down at it. It wasn't Happy, calling back to yell at her again. She wasn't sure if she was disappointed or relieved that it was Drew.

"Hello, Drew."

"Paige. Can you come over? We are going to need to talk."

Paige sighed. "You want to talk about why I'm back early. I told you I would tell you when I was ready."

"Paige, to be perfectly honest with you, I don't care if you're ready. Come down here today or I'm going to have to re – think our partnership."

"You paid for me and Ralph to fly out to California and you're going to lose out on that investment by dropping me?"

"I can't get any return on an investment that won't meet with me."

Paige sighed. She supposed she did have to meet with him sooner rather than later if she wanted to get to work on her album. Although at this moment, the thought of that just made her feel tired. Wasn't it supposed to give her energy? Shouldn't she be chomping at the bit?

She had just flown across the country, had a sad kid to take care of, and had a lot on her mind. Of course she would be tired.

"Fine," she said to Drew. "I'll be there in an hour."

* * *

 

"Hey, Paige," Drew said warmly as she entered the apartment.

Paige gave him a thin smile. She knew the questions were coming. She'd been trying to prepare herself the entire subway journey. But his first question, after getting her a chair and a mug of hot chocolate, surprised her.

"Why did they send you back here?"

Paige blinked. "Send me back?"

"Yes." Drew raised his eyebrows. "Because you are here, correct? This isn't an apparition?"

"They didn't send me back, Drew. I…I left."

Drew furrowed his brow. "You left? It was your decision?"

It was quite clear why Drew didn't belong to a team of geniuses. "That is what I said, Andrew."

Drew twiddled his thumbs on the desk. "What happened? Paige," he said, his tone growing more no – nonsense as she shrugged. "I'm not playing games here."

She sighed. "To be honest? I was scared."

"Scared?" He cocked his head. "Did they not treat you right?"

"No no," Paige said quickly. "Everyone was wonderful. I was just…maybe scared isn't the right word? I don't know, conf…confused. That's a good word." She shook her head. "Drew, I know you sent me away to get experiences, feelings…but some of those feelings were just…" She shook her head. "Music is a distraction. And I need that distraction and I need to be back here. This is my home. And Ralph's home. And this is where we need to be."

Drew folded his hands, studying her for what Paige thought was an uncomfortable amount of time. "You have been through so much in your life. You've always faced challenges head on. It's something that I admire about you. It's something that I know your son will be better for having had you as an example. What  _is_  it out there that you can't face, Paige? I don't understand."

She lowered her head. She'd already said too much. She shouldn't have prepped answers on the subway; she should have known nothing ever goes the way one imagines. She should have marched in here all business, brushing off his little interview and asking about getting in the studio. She'd let Drew have the upper hand, get her thinking, get her emotional, and now there was no way out but to tell the truth.

"Him," she said quietly. "It's him I can't face."

"Walter O'Brien?"

She bit her lip, blinking hard, still not looking at Drew. She heard him take in a deep breath.

"Are you in love with him?"

_I don't know!_

Paige tasted blood and realized how hard she had been biting down on her lip. She sighed. "Janice…his…his girlfriend, she said I was. She said that he was in love with me, too. And I don't know if I didn't want to believe it or if I did. All I knew for sure was…I had never felt like that before. About someone. But he's with Janice. It would have been wrong to have stayed, in case she was right. I didn't go out there to…to fall in love, and he's with Janice, and…"

"Paige, stop talking."

She was glad that he'd said that. When she got rambling the way she was, she usually couldn't stop except via order.

"Good. Now look at me."

She didn't – not at first. When the silence became too uncomfortable, Paige slowly lifted her eyes.

"Paige, I sent you out there to find out about yourself. I didn't send you in order to get specific results, but to find out what those results might be. I knew there was a chance I might lose you as a client, but I was willing to take that chance because you weren't viable in this career and this little sabbatical could have changed that. And I don't know if it has." Paige opened her mouth to protest, but he continued. "I think it's possible that this experience has made you a more emotive singer and it could help skyrocket you to success in that field. But I also think it's possible that you've discovered passions that you didn't know existed and you actually don't care all that much about this man's relationship and are just afraid because you weren't expecting to fall for him, and yet you have. Intensely. Now, you know about my past mistakes with women, and I'm not saying I'm an expert or even someone with a right to speak on this. But I'm also not just talking about Walter O'Brien. I'm talking about that job. Those people. You seem to have connected with them. And you enjoyed working with them. I could tell from your e – mails. But you're not considering that maybe that's where you're supposed to be. You said this place is Ralph's home? Do you really think that?"

Paige gave a deep sigh. Ralph hadn't smiled since they got back. He had barely made eye contact. That was the Ralph she had raised most of his life. But it wasn't the Ralph she had seen in California, who talked to people other than her and whose whole face lit up when he smiled and who actually did things with an enthusiasm she didn't think he possessed. She was kidding herself if she thought that New York City was Ralph's home.

She was beginning to think she was kidding herself to claim it was hers.

"So," she said, "what on Earth do you suggest I do?"

"Go back."

"No!"

"Paige." Drew raised his eyebrows. "I don't mean forever. Not necessarily. But you have to go back and figure things out. You'll always love singing. If you love Walter O'Brien, it doesn't mean you love singing less any more than it means you love your son less. But you have to lead the life you were born to live, and maybe you just ran away from it."

_Maybe Scorpion is where you belong._

It took Paige a moment to realize that Drew actually hadn't said that last part.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be a couple more chapters after this one. As you may have guessed, part two is going to be much shorter than part one – but that would be true of The Sound of Music too if you take out the Nazis.


	15. Chapter 15

Paige hadn't felt so sick since she was pregnant.

She hadn't been able to keep food down since before she went to the airport – alone this time – to fly back to Los Angeles and figure out what path her life was going to take. Ralph was staying behind for now. Lucy – although not both her and Carlos since they still refused to live together – was watching him for a week, after which Paige would send for him or return to New York permanently. She felt bad about leaving him behind, and even more so about lying to him about where she was going. The story was that her mother, imprisoned in Texas for fraud, was being considered for early release and Paige was going as a character witness. She knew how badly her son wanted to see the geniuses, to see Walter, but he had lived his entire life in unknowns and she didn't want to dangle a carrot in front of him only to snatch it away.

To snatch it away  _again._  Paige supposed she had to accept that she'd already done that once.

She had now been without a proper meal in thirty hours, her stomach too nervous, and she walked to a gas station near the airport to buy water and bland crackers before calling an Uber to take her to the garage. The driver was a very friendly woman by the name of Leticia, who thankfully got the hint fairly early on that Paige didn't want to talk. So they traveled in silence, except for Leticia tapping her nails on the steering wheel and Paige bumping her knee against the passenger door. Her stomach was still in knots, her mind racing through countless scenarios, all of which included rejection, the team staring at her with cold, unfeeling eyes as she left the garage for what would be the final time.

Well, she allowed herself one scenario that was happier than the rest. But she didn't let her hopes get too high.

"Well, Miss Paige, it looks like we've arrived…according to the GPS, at least," Leticia said, frowning down at her phone. "Is this the place?"

The garage certainly didn't look welcoming from the outside. Paige wondered if it looked even less friendly than she remembered, or if her nerves were tainting her perception. "This is it," she said, giving Leticia a smile. "Thanks, I appreciate it."

"You have a good day now," Leticia said. "Stay safe out there."

"I will." She grabbed her bag and exited the car, realizing that she hadn't made any sleeping arrangements. Oh well. It's not like there was a shortage of hotels in the area, and if worst came to worst, she was sure she could borrow Cabe's couch for a night. They may all be furious with her, but Cabe at least would not leave her with nowhere to go. He was too much of a father for that.

When she reached the door, she wondered if she should knock. Technically she no longer worked there, and it might be considered forward and inappropriate for her to think she could stride right in – maybe especially so given how she had left things. Maybe she had no right to just waltz back into their lives. Maybe she should have at least called.

But she was here now, and so Paige Dineen took a deep breath, ran her fingers through her hair, and opened the door.

The garage looked exactly the same, which she supposed was expected given she hadn't been gone long and the changes she'd made had been hastily put away upon Walter's return with Janice and Ray. She actually felt a twinge of relief that not much had changed.

"We – e – ell, look what the Disneyland cats dragged in!"

Paige wasn't sure why she hadn't considered the possibility of Ray being the first one to notice her.

"The Disn…hey, it's Paige!" Toby grinned as he rose from his desk and placed his hat firmly on his head.

Paige hadn't noticed Sylvester hurrying toward her until a split second before she was wrapped in his arms in a tight hug. "I knew you'd come back," he said quietly, almost as if to himself. "I knew it. I knew you'd come back."

"Hey, Sly," she said, lifting an arm up to rest against his, the best way to hug him back with the way he had her.

Toby and Ray reached her about the same time, the latter giving her a pat on the shoulder as Sylvester released her and she straightened up.

"I'm so glad to see you all," Paige said, smiling and continuing to feel a rush of relief at the behaviorist smiling back.

"We've missed you around here," Toby commented.

"I've missed you," Paige said, smiling between him and Sylvester. Remembering Ray, she turned toward him. "Ray, how are you?"

"Hungry," he responded immediately. "The fridge was more stocked when you were in charge of it."

"Happy," Paige said, noticing the mechanical prodigy sitting at her work station, eyeing the reunion warily. "Are you doing alright?"

"Fair," Happy said. "Are you back to…stay, or…?"

"Oh, look who it is!"

Paige and the others' heads turned in unison toward the stairs, where Janice and Walter were descending. Paige noticed that both were fully clothed and that Janice's hair was done up neatly. "Hello," she said, feeling suddenly awkward despite her observations.

"Paige is back!" Ray said, at the same time Sylvester, apparently also thinking Walter and Janice lacked the ability to see, exclaimed, "Paige is back from New York City!"

"It's so good to see you," Janice said, the two of them coming to a stop a dozen feet away. She glanced at Walter, then nudged him with her elbow. "Isn't it good to see her, Walter?"

Walter cleared his throat. "Oh, um," he cleared his throat again, "yes. Yes, lovely. Wonderful."

Paige felt herself begin to blush, despite the awkwardness.

"Team," Walter said, turning his attention to the geniuses, "go up on the roof and check on the…the progject."

"What project?" Sylvester asked.

"Yeah," Happy said, raising an eyebrow. "What project, boss?"

Walter sighed. "Just get, okay?"

"Maybe we could go to lunch," Ray said. "There is nothing in the refrigerator."

"Fine, go to lunch." Walter reached into his pocket and pulled out a couple of twenties. "This should get you all entrees at Kovelsky's. Go."

Ray snatched the bills from Walter's hand. "I'll make sure it all gets spent."

"Toby, keep an eye on Ray."

Toby saluted.

"So," Walter said slowly when the team was gone, "you're back to stay?"

"For the moment at least, if you'll have me, that is," she said. "I realize that my departure was abrupt and left you without ample time to find somebody else."

"That it did," Walter said, glancing quickly at Janice. "You didn't even take the time to say goodbye. Or let us say goodbye – even to Ralph."

"I know. That was wrong."

"Why?"

"Why? Because it's always polite and courteous to – "

"N – no. No." Walter frowned, seemingly frustrated with himself for not making his question clear. "Not why was it wrong. Why did you do it? Leave so suddenly."

Paige bit her lip. She supposed she should have expected that question. "Please don't ask me to answer that. The reason doesn't exist anymore anyway."

"How am I to learn if…" he trailed off and nodded. "No, you're right, I'm sorry."

Paige wasn't sure how long the following silence lasted, but it was broken by Walter clearing his throat again. "Janice, do you know where the box of Paige's things is?"

"Right over here," Janice said, glancing between them before crossing the room and picking up a plastic milk crate that sat near the Proton Arnold game. She bent, picked it up, and carried it back across the room, setting it on one of the desks.

Walter ruffled through it before locating a manila folder. "Here," he said, reaching inside and handing her a credit card. "Your business card. I hadn't cut it yet. Clearly. You can use it to get a hotel while we figure out what we're doing, I mean, you know, see if this company is still a fit.

"Thanks." Paige nodded as she took the card from him. "I…I would like to talk about that."

"Good." She swore she saw a hint of a smile on Walter's face. "Good."

* * *

The hotel room was sufficient. She could get a better rate if she committed to three nights, and Paige agreed to that offer. She was still hungry and knew that even if this all ended up for naught, she wouldn't be up to traveling again for a day or two. Even hungry, she fell asleep on top of the covers within ten minutes of checking in and woke up when it was close to evening.

Walter had asked her to come back later, but hadn't specified a time, only "once you have settled into your accommodation." She supposed it was still technically  _later_  and it wasn't like night had already fallen and she would expect him and Janice to have already turned in. And he hadn't texted her to ask if she was still coming, which probably meant he still assumed she would be. So Paige changed her clothes, ran a comb through her hair, and added a touch of the perfume she had been wearing when they had danced.

The anxiety was back in her stomach as she drove to the garage, but upon arriving, Walter had greeted her from his desk with a smile that put her oddly at ease.

"I suppose you have questions for me," Paige said hesitantly, lowering herself to perch on the edge of her old desk. "And I suppose you have a right to my answers."

Walter nodded slowly. "I do."

She shrugged. "I'm listening, then. All ears."

"Do you want to sit down?" Walter asked.

"No, no, I'm okay," she said. "I'm okay like this."

Walter nodded again, looking thoughtful. "Why did you leave here? And why did you decide to come back?"

"Well, as I said earlier, I…I had an obligation to fulfill here. And I came back to fulfill it." She knew that answer wasn't sufficient, so she blurted out another, more honest one. "And I missed everyone."

"You did."

"Yeah. I did."

Walter gave another nod. "Everyone as in…all of us?"

"Well, of course," Paige said. "The team are my friends. Surely even you can see that I would miss them, right?"

"Oh, of course," Walter said with a quick nod this time. "I was just clarifying because I hoped that you may have, um…well, things were different when you were here but they felt…strange and unfamiliar once you had gone."

"Well, it's only natural that things feel different. Janice is here now, and Ray, and they bring a dynamic that will take everyone some getting used to. But they will," she said encouragingly, "and then that will feel like a new normal."

There was a silence before Walter responded, his hand on his chin almost thoughtfully. "No," he said. "No, it won't." He put his hands on the arms of the chair and rose to his feet with a grunt. "It won't."

Paige felt the blood rushing to her face in the way he was looking at her, and she suddenly thought of Walter's girlfriend walking in, demanding to know why they were suddenly standing just a few feet apart, staring at each other. "Where's Janice?"

"I'm not entirely sure, but I would say almost halfway home by now."

Paige blinked. "What?"

"Paige, she and I have decided to go our separate ways. She and Ray are driving back to Tahoe."

"But why?" Paige asked, genuinely confused. "I thought you and her were going to be…well, that she was here with the goal of staying."

Walter sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets and looking away. "Perhaps initially."

She cocked her head at his change in posture and tone. "You seem nervous."

He looked back at her, opening his mouth as if to protest, but then said only "yes."

She cocked her head the other way. "Why?"

"Well, I…it's possible I may have misread you. Before. And…and now. But I still think it's right…to tell you about what Janice and I spoke about before she left."

It was Paige's turn to slowly nod. "Okay."

"I told her that I wasn't sure…about us. That I had always been willing to fulfill the basic role of her boyfriend, listing myself as such on the Facebook, going out on dates, kissing her when appropriate. I knew her feelings for me were different, but she was okay with that. She said that to be enough for someone who couldn't feel things, who didn't believe romantic love existed, well, that was more than she could hope for. But that's not entirely true anymore. So I couldn't marry her."

"She lost her feelings for you?"

Walter shook his head. "No. I was the one that changed."

Paige swallowed. "How so?"

Walter's tongue briefly appeared, wetting his lips, and then he took in a breath. "I fell in love with someone else. Paige," he said quietly, stepping even closer to her. "I've been trying to process what I feel when I look at you, or, or think about you, and that's…that's the only conclusion. I've been in love with you since shortly after we met."

Paige was suddenly finding it difficult to breathe. "You…"

"I know that doesn't mean that you feel the same," Walter said quickly. "But you can't marry someone when you're in love with someone else. So I had to call it off."

"Walter," she managed. They were standing very close together, and yet she shifted her feet forward, closing the gap almost completely and tentatively reaching up, placing a hand on the side of his neck.

"Hmmm," he asked, his eyes focused on hers, reminding her of the night they danced and she had suddenly grown so, so afraid. There must have been a change on her face, because Walter raised a hand to her cheek. "Are you alright?" He asked, his voice low and intimate.

"I love you," she said, their lips inches apart, and then suddenly no distance at all as he kissed her, and she closed her eyes. Her body molded against his as he slid his free arm around her, their kiss soft and hesitant only for a moment or two; it deepened, grew more passionate. Hungrier. Paige's knees buckled, pushing her more firmly against Walter as he caught her, and when she heard the soft moan from deep in his throat she couldn't stop the one that rushed past her lips as a jolt of desire shot through her belly and settled lower. She was feeling dizzy, like everything was spinning around them, unsure if Walter really was the best kisser she'd encountered despite his inexperience or if her overwhelming attraction to him was just elevating it. Either way, as his lips and tongue explored hers she swore a bomb could have gone off right next to them and she wouldn't be capable of noticing.

Their lips parted and she drew in a breath, glad for the oxygen, and then suddenly Walter was kissing her jaw, around to her ear, and then her neck, his lips locking on her soft skin and his tongue swirling over the spot just below her ear as if he somehow knew exactly that that was where she was most sensitive. " _Oh_." Any control she had regained over her knees was instantly gone, and she wrapped an arm around his neck. "Jesus, we need to be alone."

"We are alone," Walter mumbled, the hand that wasn't supporting her going to rub her back.

"No, just…" She looked behind her, hopping back up on the desk and wrapping her arms back around his neck as he stepped between her knees, pulling his head down toward her, desperate to feel his lips on hers again. He leaned down, as eager as her, and she kissed him hard, curling her fingers through his hair and shuddering when his tongue once again parted her lips. She reached for the buttons on his shirt, frantically starting to undo them, realizing she probably should ask if he wanted to, if he had even done this before, but feeling as if stopping even for a moment would be willingly subjecting herself to agony.

But there were questions she had to get answers to first, and she was just about to lean back out of his reach when Walter pulled away. "Paige," he said, his voice sounding tense, "not here."

She brushed some hair back behind her ear, shakily standing up. "I'm sorry."

"No!" He closed the gap between them again, pulling her into his arms. "No, just…" he shook his head. "Desk?"

"Oh." She nodded. "But you do wanna…"

He let out a quick breath as if he couldn't believe she wasn't sure of what he wanted. "You," he said in the same low voice from earlier, leaning in and kissing her again, slowly and tenderly. "That's what I want." Another kiss. Paige thought she might fall to the floor if he let her go. "Upstairs?" He asked, his lips still against hers.

She nodded, their noses bumping. "Upstairs."


	16. Chapter 16

She had never been in this bed before and had never been in this building this early in the morning, but it took Paige only a moment to realize where she was.

She had spent too much of the previous day a bundle of nerves to fully process what else she was feeling as her plane took her closer to California. Now, naked and a little sore but in an incredibly welcome way, Walter's body stretched out next to hers, Paige realized how everything about the previous day and a half had been a homecoming. She had perhaps been a little forward the previous night, when Walter got up to get both of them some water and she'd texted Lucy to put her son on the first possible flight, but now she was glad of it. He would be arriving in about ten hours, and from the Snapchat video Lucy had sent of him jumping around and screaming like a wild banshee, he was as thrilled as she was that they were going to stay in California.

At least for now. Paige wasn't so presumptuous to assume that this was where they'd spend the rest of their lives. But Scorpion, this new thing with Walter, even the shady looking garage felt righter than anywhere had felt in a long time, and she knew Ralph felt the same way.

"Morning," Walter mumbled, smiling at her.

"Hey," she said, craning her neck out to brush her lips over his. "Good morning yourself."

"How are you doing?" Walter asked. "You feel okay?"

She giggled at the sudden concern on his face, then felt bad. He was being sweet. She just felt so damn  _good_ that it almost surprised her someone might think there was a chance she didn't.

"I feel  _mighty_  groovy," she said with a grin, kissing him again. "How about you?"

"Well, you're here, so that's a good start to the day."

Paige remembered when she found his bluntness unappealing.

Walter sat up, stretching, and Paige pushed up into a sitting position as well. "I apologize for the mattress," Walter said. "It hasn't been flipped lately."

She almost giggled again at the apparent randomness of his apology. She hadn't noticed anything wrong with the mattress, but then again, she'd been sleeping on ones likely much older and cheaper. She wondered if Janice had commented on the mattress, and that was why he felt the need to acknowledge it now. Then she remembered what the others had suspected and Walter had confirmed the previous night, while they were sipping their waters and catching their breath – he had never been intimate with her.

Suddenly, Paige felt a tiny niggling that she recognized as guilt.

_Call your girlfriend. It's time you had the talk. Give your reasons. Say it's not her fault. But you just met somebody new._

Paige bit her lip. She'd sung that song a couple of times. She had liked it, quite a bit actually. But she hadn't really understood it. Now that she did, she didn't like the way it made her feel.

Oh god. He had specifically and unarguably left Janice to be with her.

She was a homewrecker.

_Tell her not to get upset, second – guessing everything you've said and done. And when she gets upset tell her that you never meant to hurt no one. Then you tell her that the only way her heart will mend is when she learns to love again. And it won't make sense right now, but you're still her friend._

"Paige."

She jumped a little. "Hmm," she asked, smiling at him. "What?"

"You're doing that…that thing that you do when something's the matter."

Paige tucked her legs underneath her. "I guess I just feel really bad for Janice."

"Janice?"

"Well, yeah." She sighed. "She probably thought you guys were going to…to be together forever and all that. And then you left her for me."

"Janice knew I didn't ever love her. Our being together was conditional on that not changing. Neither of us expected that to change of course, but…"

"But that's what I mean." Paige brushed her hair back behind her ear. "She didn't think that was ever going to end. And now it has, and I'm the reason. There are few things that hurt more than being replaced, Walter. Being broken up with because you're suddenly not enough anymore."

"I didn't break up with her," Walter said matter – of – factly.

Paige cocked her head. "I'm sorry?"

Walter took one of her hands. "She ended things, Paige. She could tell how I felt about you. And when you were gone yesterday afternoon, she said that she had a feeling that you were never going to be a singer in New York City."

Paige frowned.

"Not…not an insult to your talent," Walter said. "She had figured out why you came back. She knew that this place is a family to you that it was never going to be to her. And she told me that I had to tell you how I felt because it had to be special if I of all people was feeling it." Walter gave a slow nod. "I'm still not good at reading people, Paige. But I don't think she's angry, or ashamed."

She leaned over and kissed his shoulder. "I hope you're right."

Walter slid his arm around her waist, waiting when she lifted her head. When he kissed her, she smiled against his lips, and she eagerly shifted backward when he put his hand on her stomach and applied light pressure. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply as he settled his weight on her.

"When do the others get in today?" She mumbled between kisses.

"No cases," Walter said, his hand caressing her hip. "Not coming in."

She grinned. "Excellent."

* * *

"You know, today's been fun," Paige said, settling down on the upstairs couch next to Walter, a mug in her hand. "But we really should talk about how this is going to work. It's nearly three now which means Ralph's flight gets in in just under two hours and then everyone is back at the garage tomorrow."

"What do you mean…how this is going to work?" Walter asked. "I filed your paperwork before you got back yesterday. You're officially back to your previous role at Scorpion. And we'll arrange for you to bring all of your possessions…"

"That's…that's not what I mean." She set her mug down on the coffee table. "I know I'll get that apartment back and Ralph will be in school and all that. I mean how are we going to manage to be us and…and professional colleagues at the same time?"

Walter cocked his head. "I'm sorry. I need examples."

"Okay. Okay. So like…are you going to be easier on me because I'm your girlfriend? Or harder on me? Are you going to prevent me from doing my job because a situation might be dangerous? Am I going to do that to you? Or what about…" she shrugged. "What about if I let things you do slide when it should be a teaching moment? Or if you get upset on the job because I can't understand what you're saying? Or…or what if I get  _too_  hard on you because I'm projecting some internalized vision of a perfect boyfriend on to you?"

There was a silence. Walter sighed. "You have a lot of concerns."

She nodded, then saw the look on his face and realized he thought she was backing out. "No, not…I don't regret anything about last night or today. Walter." She kissed him. "I want this. And I know Ralph is going to be thrilled when we tell him. I'm just saying we can't go into this assuming that our work dynamic isn't going to be different now. We just have to be conscious of that, that's all."

"I understand." Walter nodded. "And I agree."

"Yeah?"

"Mmm hmm."

Paige smiled. "I've got a really good feeling about this, Walter," she said.

He leaned in and kissed her again. "I do, too."

"I really, uh, I really should head to the airport to get Ralph. It's a bit of a drive, especially this time of day. Did you…did you want to come? Or is that too…weird, soon, whatever?"

Walter smiled. "I'd love to come. I…this may sound stupid, but I've missed him."

She stood and held out her hand. "That wasn't a test," she said as he took it, "but that was a good answer."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who read this, reviewed it, followed or favorited. Especially to those of you who were unsure of or not fans of AUs that gave this fic a chance anyway. I appreciate your faith in me.


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